My parents were a social sort.
And often entertained.
With friends and food and games galore
And fun for hours, sustained.
And in those days of party fun,
When er’ food came in sight,
There were no paper plates to serve
With gusto and delight.
Only the best that could be found
Would aid my parents’ guests,
And so they served on china, fine,
And silver for the rest.
And when the meal was done, the guests
Rose quickly to their feet.
And, as a group, cleared table, and
Would in the kitchen meet.
The duties there were quickly giv’n,
Who’d man the towels and sink.
And in an instant, all was done,
E’en faster than you’d blink.
When I was ten, above the rest
Stood out one woman there.
I watched in awe as she took towel
And dried the silverware.
Her movements were that quick, I found,
My eyes could barely follow.
And soon a gleaming pile she had
All ready for tomorrow.
“I’d love to be that fast,” I said.
“My goal is clear to see.”
She shook her head, “I’m sorry, dear,
You won’t be fast as me.”
I took it as a challenge then
And practiced faithfully.
And finally knew just what she meant,
“You won’t be fast as me.”
For some of us receive one gift,
And some another. True.
Her gift was drying silverware,
And mine? Is telling you.