Tell Me a Story about … Tea!

As I contemplated writing this, a hot cup of Tetley tea steamed beside me in one of my numerous mugs—this one squat, round, and bearing the word “Mom” on its side. Let it be said that I LOVE TEA!Tea 3

And not any tea … no, I stock my shelves with Tetley Teas: regular black, decaf black, and my new favorite, black/green tea. I also keep Boston Mint-in-Tea on hand for those times when either my tummy wants the soothing of the mint or my spirit needs the comfort of the mint vapors (did that long before the fad of fragrant oils for health).

My cupboards … and storage areas … abound with mugs of all shapes, colors, and sizes. Some have sayings such as, “I NEED CHOCOLATE!” Others have cute characters from Winnie the Pooh® and Peanuts®. Many have animals, flowers, and birds. Some are handpainted by our daughters, including one Tea 5with a pinecone hanging on pine branches, compliments of our eldest daughter’s knowledge of my love and her animosity for pinecones. A ceramic travel-mug, paint by a different daughter with Christmas designs, I of course use year-round. And don’t let me get started on Christmas mugs; that’s another storage-shed’s worth!

As with coffee, tea brings memories of people, and yes, as with my post on coffee, I think of my grandmother, though she wasn’t a tea drinker. Those memories come from her love for china teacups. Her collection came to me when she joined Jesus, and I use them with care.

“What other people fill those memories?” you ask. Two of them probably had stock in the Tetley tea company … or should have had with the vast amounts of tea they guzzled throughout their lives. My dad drank two cups every day before he left for work. If at home, my mom made multiple pots for him, boiled dark and strong in our Corningware teapot, the one with the sweet blue cornflower on its bright white bowl. He took several teaspoons of sugar and a deluge of milk in it, enough so that the dark liquid turned a milky tan color. In fact, that’s how I learned to drink it and did so for years until I decided to cut the sugar back, then the milk, until now, my tea needs just a tad of milk, no sugar, please. And I only drink one cup that high in caffeine a day.Tea 4

Not so my aunt! Before she went to heaven, she had graduated from the normal-sized teapot to an extra-large tea-urn! It still had the required cornflower on its full belly and made a copious amount of tea. And where my dad boiled his until it turned dark, my aunt boiled hers until the cows came home … and went back out the next morning! Strong doesn’t begin to describe it. And get this! She refilled that pot at least three or four times a day! She loved that Tetley tea.

Oh yes, it had to be Tetley, the “tiny little tea leaf” tea. Strong enough to suit even the British (maybe?), though the company did come out with a British blend. However, speaking of the company, we—our daughters and I—have a bone to pick with them. Why did they stop dividing the rows of teabags in their boxes with the bookmarks?!

Tea 2“Bookmarks?” you wonder. Ah, yes, the white rectangular pieces of cardboard between the four rows of 25 teabags each, just perfect for making into bookmarks. Another memory of my aunt is the many letters arriving by mail into which she slid several of those bookmarks-read-to-be-made for our girls. Or the visits during which she’d pull out a rubber-banded stack of them (remember, she drank a LOT of tea). The girls would use stickers, markers, and other craft supplies to design the bookmarks. The photo shows two I still have stuck in with my Christmas book collection.

Today, the boxes contain no bookmarks, sad to say. Where are we to find them? Well, guess what? Today, I discovered one! No, not in my Tetley box, but in the boxed version of Boston Mint-in-Tea. Nestled between the bags … ah, what wonder, what joy! A bookmark just waiting to be decorated for … hmm, for me? For our daughter who loved making them for me? Or maybe for a young grandchild, just learning about chapterTea 1 books?

See what I mean? Tea makes me think of people. And I feel God would be pleased at that. He made tea leaves, tiny or otherwise, for our enjoyment. And He made the people in my life for me to love and enjoy … past, present, and future. May your tea-drinking years bring many times of refreshment and joy with the people you most love.

 

Speaking of those people and drinking tea, what stories do you have about tea? What brand did your family drink most? What flavors do you like in the wide array of them on the grocery store shelves and the cafés around the world? Share your stories with us!

Coffee

         Ah, coffee. One definition could read, “Liquid relaxation served in a cup or mug.”

          Most of us have tasted it. For some, the bitter brew left a longing for an ice-cold cola. But for the rest of us, coffee became our mainstay to sanity.

          What memories does coffee awaken with its fresh-brewed aroma? A quiet sunrise accompanied by a steaming mug and a donut? Or the relief of a cup at work on a much-needed coffee break? Maybe an after-dinner coffee sipped while reading?

          When I think of coffee, I don’t smell it or taste a certain flavor. I don’t hear the percolator or feel warmth radiating into my bones. When I think of coffee, I think of people.

          Through sharing hundreds of cups during my coffee-drinking career, I’ve seen tears, heard tales, joined in laughter. Memories swirl: my husband bringing a cup just when I needed it most, my dad surprising my mom and me with a pot of decaf, my brother’s knack for making the best coffee around, which I can’t do even mimicking his every move.IMG_0022 - Copy

          Maybe you think of one specific person whenever coffee is mentioned. For me, that’s my grandmother.

          Oh, it wasn’t the coffee itself, though she did brew a good cup. Nor the adored china teacups we used. I recall the stories. My grandmother was a storyteller. Allow me to share one of my favorites.

          My grandmother fell in love with a set of dishes on sale at Bowman’s Department Store and hinted at my grandfather about her upcoming birthday. As it approached, she knew she’d receive the treasured dishes. Sure enough, on her birthday, a Bowman’s truck pulled up to the curb. She raced to the door and yanked it open. There stood the delivery man, smiling and handing her two brand-new clothes props. (People used these to “prop up” the clothesline to keep drying clothing from touching the ground.) Snatching them with a huff, she planned the attack for my grandfather when he returned home.

          As she walked away, the bell rang a second time. She reopened the door to see the same delivery man, this time bearing a box containing the coveted dishes.

          Coffee and love became synonymous when I saw my grandmother’s smile as she remembered this tale. Over the years, she shared pieces of her life through stories told over a hundred cups of coffee. Invite someone to share a cup of love with you today!

 ***I’d love to read your coffee-cup tale! To leave your story, click on the words beside the date under the title of this post. Then, scroll to the bottom of the comment section to find the box with the heading, “Leave a reply.” Thank you for sharing!

 *** Stop by next Monday to read how a pink poodle bank and a $5 bill saved a young couple!