Back in 2012 I built a table. Before that we had a boxed table set that sat 4 comfortably, but we hosted a lot of people between friends in our area in Haiti, and the guests that would come stay with us for a week at the mission. As a make-shift solution to make our table bigger I had some visitors help me make a top that sat on our regular table to make it bigger. It worked fine, but it was cumbersome to move. I wanted to have a normal dining table that we could make bigger when needed, but those are expensive when you can find them in Haiti, and often just not our style. So I made one.
I found plans online and adapted them to our space. I bought wood, and it became my second woodworking project after the coffee table I had made. The table sat 6 comfortably when needed, and had extensions that slid in on either end to make it big enough to easily seat 8-10, sometimes more if we squeezed.
When I made that table we had a volunteer named Ryan that had come to live and work with us for a year. I remember him hanging out with me on the deck of the round house where I was building during his first week or two with us. He would help me with bits and pieces as needed, and when the table was done we added an extra chair around it because Ryan ate most of his meals with us. He became part of our family that year and it was a sweet season.
When Ryan left we didn’t move the extra chair because we really didn’t have anywhere convenient to store it so we could pull it out if we had a guest. Over time that fifth chair hosted a lot of people. When we moved to Camp Marie and set up our house I decided to keep that fifth chair around the table, even though we had plenty of room to easily stash it somewhere else.
You see, by the time we moved to Camp Marie I had realized that the fifth chair had become a fixture for our family that was always open for an unexpected guest. When people came over it became easy to invite them to stay for a meal and just throw an extra plate on the table. They saw that it wasn’t a big deal and that they weren’t imposing, because the chair was already there. I would look at that chair and be reminded that hospitality doesn’t have to be complicated or fancy. In fact, the best kind of hospitality, the kind that often means the most, is the kind that happens easily and without a lot of planning.
Over the years we hosted more people than I can count around that table. We had so many people we came to love, that became our family overseas, sit in that fifth chair. And, we’d pull extra chairs around when needed. We made new friends as we hosted guests on Vision Trips. We hosted research teams. We met so many wonderful people and shared so many meals around that table. Over time people that knew us would tell other new people in our area that they needed to meet us because they appreciated our hospitality.
We thrived off of gathering people around us and it became part of our family culture to create a space where people felt welcome. I always made sure I had the makings for spaghetti on hand. Always. Because it was an easy meal I could throw together quickly for a crowd if needed.
In the past few years, as things got harder in Haiti, it meant people left and people weren’t coming. Our social network, and our opportunities to host people at our house became fewer and fewer until we spent most of our time in isolation. It was incredibly hard and we wished and hoped for better days when we’d see our community come back or grow again. It was very isolating and lonely. And then we had to be one of those families that made the hard decision to leave.
When we moved into our house here we were blessed by so many people who helped us get the things we need, either by just giving us extras that they had, or giving us funds to help buy the things we needed to set up our home. One of the things we were gifted was a dining table set, which we were grateful for. I painted it right before we moved in, we put it in place and attempted to feel at home.
One of the things we’ve realized over the past six months is that just because you put furniture in a space that you gather, it doesn’t mean things will feel like home. Home is more than a physical space. In fact, I’ve come to realize that home is really more about a feeling than anything tangible that you can touch or see. It’s creating a safe space where things become familiar.
The dining set we were given was functional, but it wasn’t “home”. The set came with 6 chairs, but it was a tight squeeze to fit them all around the table. The table was a bit wonky, wiggled, and just a tad bit too high. Just high enough that it felt a bit weird sitting at it. It was also just a bit too wide for our dining space, so we always felt like we were having to scootch around it or were bumping into it.
Chris and I have had a lot of conversations about how hard this period of transition is, and how the process of feeling at home is a long and hard one, especially when you’re still feeling like it wasn’t the plan to have to do it in the first place. During some of our more recent conversations I was able to recognize that one of the things that I really missed about our home in Haiti was our table.
On the surface it seems a bit silly to miss a piece of furniture, but at the core I missed everything that table meant. I built it, it was mine. It meant so many friends and even family sharing meals. It meant hospitality and building a life for ourselves. I missed having the space to always have that fifth chair there. I missed the days homeschooling my kids around that table, and all the family meals we’d shared there. Meal time is a core family thing for us.
Chris and I recognized that a physical thing that would make our new house feel more like home was to find a table that felt more like us. One that fit our space better. One that had more room around it so we could be more hospitable. And, if it was level and at a normal height that would be a good thing too :)
I started scrolling marketplace occasionally. I knew I wanted wood, I knew I’d love something older, and I knew we didn’t want to spend a lot of money on it. I found stuff from time to time, but most often it was either too far away, or more than we wanted to spend. I decided to just keep my eyes open as garage sale season started here, and knew I’d find it when the time was right.
Yesterday Chris was sick, so he stayed home from church. The kids and I went, and because I knew he wasn’t up to much we decided to go to Goodwill after grabbing some lunch to see if we could find some summer clothes for them. As we were checking out the goods on offer I wandered over to the housewares section. I normally don’t pay that much attention to furniture in Goodwill because we don’t need anything.
But, yesterday was different, because at the end of the section was this little round table with three chairs pushed against it. I almost didn’t give it much attention, but did a second take and realized there were three leaves stacked on top. I stopped my cart and went to check it out. It was solid wood. It was beaten and battered and I could see why most people wouldn’t give it a second glance. It was $30 for the whole set. And, I thought I might be able to fit it in the car with us to get it home.
I went to the front and asked for help to buy it, got the tags, paid, and managed to get it all loaded in the car – table, 3 chairs, and three leaves. I bungeed the trunk closed and embarrassed my kids as we drove home, but also taught them a valuable lesson about life in America, lol.
We got it home and Chris helped me move the old table to the curb, and move the new table in. We put the leaves in and moved chairs around it. I cut flowers from things in my yard. And I fell in love.
It fits perfectly into the space we have. It’s just the right width to feel like there’s enough space, but we can move around it. When all the leaves are in it’s the perfect length to comfortably seat 6. We can easily pull up two more chairs to seat 8. Its old farmhouse vibe, with all it’s marks and peeling varnish, feel just right. It has its own history and stories. The feel of the wood is worn, and yet soft. It’s the perfect height. It doesn’t wobble. It’s level.
Yesterday was Mother’s Day and I bought a new table with my kids. We ate our first meal around the table with family that came over for the evening. We played cards after supper. It felt like the perfect way to break in the new table. After everyone left I moved one of the chairs away and left the other in place, then sat in the living room and found myself staring at the new table. Then it hit me…
We had a fifth chair again.
I realized that for the first time since we moved in here it felt like home. And it seems crazy that it’s a beaten up old table that did it. But, maybe it doesn’t.
We’ve all commented on how much we love this table. It feels like us. We all see the marks and think they’re beautiful, and know we’ll add our own to the mix. I love that I found it on Mother’s Day with my kids. It already has meaning. And, it’s already hosted people we love. I see so many more years ahead of us, gathering people around, and that brings me joy. I see this table being with us for many years, adjusting to whatever spaces we find ourselves in. I see God’s timing and care, in tangible and seemingly small ways, to help us create a life in a hard season. It’s a reminder that he has called us to love others and always make space for them, and that through that he feeds our souls too.
It’s a fifth chair. It’s a beaten up table. But it’s also a symbol of home for us, and my heart is healing a little bit because of it.
~Leslie
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