When I was growing up in our Little family (my maiden name was Little), we seldom said grace before meals.  I’m not sure why.  My Bostonian father had grown up in a household that included his grandfather, a retired Methodist minister.  I have no doubt that every meal began with a blessing.  But when he and my mother set up housekeeping on their own, the before-dinner prayer disappeared.

However, when we were staying with my mother’s parents or having a family dinner with her Uncle Will, not a morsel of food was served or eaten until the blessing had been said.  Usually it was short:  “Bless this food to our use, Lord, and us to thy service.  Amen.”  But on holiday occasions when friends and relatives were gathered, the prayer was likely to be longer – often interminable it seemed to me.  Usually I had my eye on the relish tray, especially that stuffed celery, always hoping that my cousins wouldn’t take it all before it was passed my way.

The tradition in the Espy household (and in the Little household and, now, in ours) was that the food was served by the host.  He carved the bird or the roast, served the side dishes – although sometimes the women sitting to his right or left helped with one or two dishes – and the gravy, butter, biscuits and other ‘accompaniments’ were passed around the table.  The hostess was served first.

At my grandparents’ table, everyone waited to begin until Papa was finished serving and was ready to settle in to his own meal.  At Uncle Will’s, Aunt Minette began eating as soon as her plate arrived, I believe the theory being that the food should be eaten when it was hot.  She had majored in Home Economics at Oregon State College and was very big on manners and etiquette so I’m sure it was the right thing to do.  Still, I remember that when there were fifteen or twenty of us gathered together, she was passing her plate for seconds before Uncle Will had served himself which I didn’t think was really fair.  (I was big into fairness,)

As my grandfather aged and was inclined to wander off the subject – in his prayers and otherwise – my grandmother would often ask someone else to say the blessing.  I remember being terrified as a teenager that this daunting responsibility would fall to me.  Eventually it did, and it must have gone alright because I have no special memory of when it was or what I said.

We say grace here intermittently – usually on special occasions or if we know that it is important to our guests.  Today we are celebrating Thanksgiving at the home of friends and we are thankful for that, indeed!  Whether or not grace is said, we will surely feel blessed.