It's been one year since I was in Italy with seven other girls, two of whom I knew well, one a little less well, and four I had never met.
When I reminisce about that trip, it is still remarkable to me that what could have been a recipe for disaster, in fact was not.
Because this.
It was our first dinner meal together, and we happened on a restaurant that apparently had no room at the inn.
The hostess said they had no tables for a party of eight, but the owner thought otherwise.
He led us into the alley behind the cafe, unlocked a roll-up door, and ushered us into his private wine cellar. The staff set folding chairs around that rustic farmhouse table, poured us some wine, and offered us a perfectly charming space where strangers became friends.
Isn't that so fun?
I wish I were back there often. The smells, the tastes, the sights, and the laughs. Oh my goodness, the laughs.
And that table is where it all began.
I'm thankful for that table, that wine, that food, and for such a sweet memory, one year later.
When was your last family dinner? Whether just yesterday or one year ago, go on, be grateful!
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