This is a story of a special occasion. Last summer we had the opportunity to visit England. It was beautiful and amazing and life changing. I may never be able to capture it in words, but one day I hope to share it all with you here. This post is about that trip, but it isn’t only about that trip. Rather it is about a very special set of china. Somehow that trip to England and a box of second-hand china together weaved a pathway into my heart that I can’t unwind. Together they taught me that being alive is a special occasion. Let me tell you about about it, and about practicing the art of the special occasion.
The Beauty of Britain
When we booked our trip to the UK last summer, I had so many things I wanted to see and do. In two short weeks we visited the Cotswolds, stayed in London, walked on the beaches of Brighton, and went to the Goodwood Festival of Speed. Days were spent touring castles, abbeys, and cathedrals. We saw the British Museum, The Churchill War Rooms, visited Canterbury, Bath, and the White Cliffs of Dover. I stood astounded when I saw Stonehenge. My heart was overwhelmed by the history and the beauty. It is still overwhelmed. I felt like I had returned home, only to no home I’d ever known. Even now, when I see videos or photos of the Cotswolds, my heart aches to be there. It is a homesickness I cannot express.
Everyday Is a Special Occasion
One thing I learned in Britain is that every day is a special occasion. While in the town of Bath, I observed an amazing thing. Even being the tourist location it is, the shops opened at 9:00 a.m. and closed precisely at 5:00 p.m. The trash was taken out, the lights dimmed, and the doors gated. Workers went home and ended their work day.
At 5:00p.m. every evening a hush fell over the city. Traffic died down to nearly nothing and all you could hear were the seagulls. Then, around 6:00 p.m., you could hear a slight murmur fill the air. Suddenly people were gathering in outdoor cafes and restaurants. Cell phones were put away and laptops were tucked out of sight. The work day had ended and it was time to connect with friends and family. There was a clear and definite delineation between work and leisure. It was the epitome of work-life balance, and to be truthful, I doubted it even existed. But I was wrong.
Life itself was a special occasion and it could not be tainted with after-hours meetings, emails, and last-minute reports. It was time to celebrate life, and life was good.
The Dresden Rose
When we returned from England, my heart, as I’ve said, longed for that place. I wanted everything I could possibly touch to feel that way. I wanted to drink tea and eat scones from beautiful china. I wanted to sleep on floral sheets and I absolutely wanted to connect with people. It was then that this blog sprang to life within me. I finally realized that life is for living, and stories are for sharing. Days are for celebrating and being alive is a special occasion.
One day, I wandered into a second-hand and antique shop I frequently visited. There was a booth in the way back of the shop, and the vendor had set on a table a 5 piece place setting of china with a tag marked at $129. The tag had been marked through several times with red ink, and the final price was $50. The back of the tag said, “full set in box under table.” There was no possible way this china was selling for $50. It must be the single place setting.
Being unsure, I asked the girl at the register if she could confirm. She said she thought it was just the one place setting but would call the vendor. She called. The vendor affirmed the price and it was indeed for the entire eight place settings.
However, that week, any tag with a red dot was an additional 50% off. The tag on the china had a red dot. I quickly grabbed a shopping cart and hurried to the back booth. I purchased the 8 – five piece place settings of Mikasa Dresden Rose china for $25. Eight dinner plates, eight salad plates, eight bread plates, eight cups, eight saucers, the serving platter, a vegetable bowl, and a cream and sugar set. It was an amazing deal. But the story goes on.
The Good China
When I got home, I took the box inside. On the outside of the box, in feeble penmanship were the words, “Good China. Store in Basement.” My heart sunk. Why in the world would someone store their “good china” in the basement? The box was weathered as if it had taken in moisture and had a very musty smell. I didn’t know what I might find inside the box, but I was hopeful I could piece together at least four complete place settings. When I opened the box, you’ll never guess what I found. It was all still wrapped in the original plastic and partitioned with corrugated paper board. EVERY SINGLE PIECE was originally sealed. It has never been used.
This was the “special china.” The china that is used for Thanksgivings and birthdays, Easter dinner and Christmas brunch. Were there no special occasions? Was there nothing to celebrate?
The Art of the Special Occasion
Something about Europe changed me. The way people interacted with one another, the way they took care not to be obnoxious, the way they practiced the art of tea time. It was as if being alive was a special occasion and they wanted to experience every second of it they can.
During tea time, restaurants serve tea in porcelean tea pots and bring finger sandwiches and scones on gilded trays. People put cloth napkins in their laps and sit for an hour just to enjoy a friend’s company. I learned so much about connection through the art of living each day as if it were special.
People spoke kindly to one another – but more importantly – they listened intently to one another. Speaking was the lesser objective. Listening and connecting was more important. They made eye contact and they didn’t pick up their phones to check the for latest distraction. Who they were talking to at that moment was the most important thing they could be doing in that moment. Connection and mutual respect was important and it was practiced.
I Want To Be Like Mimi
Mimi was a woman we met in London. She worked in our hotel dining area. Mimi knew that being alive was a special occasion and that people were to be treated as such. One evening, we were sitting in the lounge when a couple came through the lobby of the hotel. Mimi walked over to this couple and greeted them with a warm hug. I assumed they were old friends. The woman said, “Mimi! I can’t believe you’re still here!”
Mimi smiled and replied, “Will you be having dinner with us? I’ll make a place for your children.” The woman tilted her head and said, “Mimi, our children are grown now. They aren’t with us on this trip.”
It was then I realized that this was a couple she had probably served in the past – and from the conversation, not a recent past. Children had had time to grow up and become adults. But even after years had passed, Mimi remembered them, and they remembered her.
As I watched Mimi the rest of the evening, I saw her connect with the people who came in for dinner or drinks at the bar. I saw her serve beverages, clear tables, open doors and talk to people. Really talk to them. She knew being alive was a special occasion, and she treated people as such.
Let Life Be An Experience
When we arrived back in the states I wanted to capture this feeling and this way of living. I thought of Mimi the day I purchased that box of china; standing at my kitchen sink carefully hand washing each piece. I literally burst into tears thinking, “I will never see her again; I will never get to tell her what an impression she made on my life.” And I only knew her for the two days we were in London.
We used those dishes every day for nearly a year. I put them through the dish washer and stacked them in the kitchen cupboards. We served Thanksgiving dinner on them and didn’t worry about chips or damage. They were only $25, you know. But they were worth so much more. We got to practice hospitality like Mimi, we got to treat chili or hamburgers like a special dish, and we got to let every day be an experience.
Eventually, as we were downsizing to move, I sold those dishes to a co-worker. She purchased them for her niece. I hope they get used everyday; I hope they set the table and eat tacos from a box, serve birthday cake, and put them in the dishwasher. I hope they don’t store them in the basement to wait for a special occasion. Every day is a special occasion.
Being Alive is a Special Occasion
The picture I borrowed for this blog says, “Don’t save anything for a special occasion. Being alive is a special occasion.” I wonder if the person who wrote on the box knew that. Did they know that being alive was a special occasion or did they wait for a calendar date, holiday, or memorial? Life is too fragile to wait for a special occasion. Celebrate it now!
What about you? Do you know that being alive is a special occasion and you are worth celebrating? I hope you do.
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Cheers everybody!
