Mom's Silverware(Elaine Faber) Corrine sighed as the comforting scent of turkey wafted from the oven and into the dining room. She glanced at the clock, mentally judging her dinner’s preparation with the arrival of the children. Her mother’s china, crystal wine goblets, and silverware were already lovingly arranged on the dining room table.

She polished a silver fork from Mother’s rosewood silverware box and placed it next to a wine goblet at the head of the table.

The chandelier lights overhead shimmered and bounced off each shining goblet and silver utensil on her holiday table. The setting reminded her of holidays at Mom’s house from years before with her siblings and all the grandchildren. Mom would move a spoon a fraction of an inch and then place a chocolate kiss on each plate. “There, to show them how much they are loved.”

Corrine’s glanced up as her husband mumbled something from the family room. “What are you doing in there?”

“I’m converting your dad’s old 8-mm movie films to a CD. We can show the grandkids pictures from your childhood.”

Corrine returned to the kitchen and poured a glass of wine. She pulled her mother’s favorite casserole dish from the cupboard. Her thoughts turned again to memories of past holidays.

She recalled the Christmas and Thanksgiving dinners when mom and the girls in the family wore party dresses specifically chosen for the event. The tradition ended when her mother passed away.

Over the years, Corrine had now become “Grandma,” and her daughter took her place in the generational family chain. Different little children now bustled through the house at holiday gatherings. “Where have the years gone?”

Corrine returned to the dining room and placed the salt and pepper shakers on the table. Using Mom’s silverware was a tradition that had continued for 60 years, throughout years of young motherhood and still appeared on every holiday dinner table. It was a constant, defying the loss of loved ones, gray hair, or climbing through the links of the family chain. One day, Mom's silverware would grace her daughter’s holiday table; and become part of her own tradition as she created new memories for her children.

Corrine picked up a spoon and flipped it over. National Silver Company... When and where had Mom acquired the boxed silverware? It wasn’t likely to have been a wedding present, since Mom and Dad were married during the Great Depression.

Corrine stood back to admire her table setting. It looked nice. “Oh! I almost forget the chocolate kiss,” she said, adding Mom’s droplets of chocolate love on each plate. Mom would be pleased she had continued the gesture.

“Honey, come take a look at this,” Corrine’s husband called from the living room. “It’s one of your dad’s old Christmas movies from when you were a toddler.”

They sat together on the couch, watching the jumpy black and white film flicker across the bed sheet pinned to the wall. The speckles became Corrine’s mother and dad and a Christmas tree decked with lights and silver icicles. Judging Corrine’s size, it must have been Christmas Day, 1946. Cousin’s Dolly and Beverly hugged giant dolls and little Allan sat on the floor in front of the Christmas tree. Corrine held an enormous doll. An unbelievably young Mom smiled from the bed sheet. Corrine’s brother chased little cousin Allan around the room with his new BB gun, making faces at the camera. Cousin Wilbur ripped open puzzles and books. Everyone had presents and wadded Christmas wrapping paper stacked by their ankles. Only one last gift remained unopened.

Corrine held her breath as she watched Dad hand Mom a large package. She smiled, looking uncomfortable in the spotlight. The Christmas wrap fell away. Mom opened the beautiful rosewood box filled with shiny new silverware. Her face beamed and she mouthed a silent “thank you” from the sheet on the wall.

Corinne gripped her husband’s hand. How Dad must have sacrificed to buy such an expensive gift in 1946 when jobs were scarce and times were hard.

There on the bed sheet was evidence of the birth of Corrine’s most precious family tradition; the beautiful rosewood box filled with silverware. A connection she still shared with her mother, one that she would continue to share with her daughter and her granddaughter for years to come.

The oven buzzer sounded. The turkey was done. Corrine wiped the tears from her eyes, picked up her wine goblet and hurried to the kitchen. Time was getting away and the children would soon be here!

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