My dining room table is very dear to my heart. It's story began in Idaho right after a horrible flood in '78. The owners were the most amazing and now angelic people I have ever known. This table signifies
love. There were many home cooked meals shared around it with numerous games played on it. If you could imagine the deepest conversations to the lightest they were shared here. There were family, friends new and old, strangers, missionaries, kids and grown-ups that all
benefited from the love shared at it. I feel very privileged to have this table in my own house for many more memories to be built around. It belonged to my Grandma and Grandpa P. When I
received it, it was a beautiful brown wood. As a child I rarely ever saw the top of the table and was only familiar with the beautiful turned legs. My Grandmother took very good care of it and always always had a
drop cloth on so it wouldn't get scratched. It was in impeccable shape when I got it. It now houses new memories along with scratches from
Legos and writing from homework. I don't have the heart to cover it up because it means so much to me. I was very pregnant when I redid this table which made the process painstakingly hard. It also made it even more
precious to me. Everytime I stare at it, it brings back many wonderful memories.