Set the Table for Yourself

Most beautiful tables are prepared for someone else.

A birthday.

Friends coming over.

A Sunday worth celebrating.

We bring out the linen.

The beautiful plates.

Fresh flowers.

The good butter.

The croissants that are still warm.

As if ordinary mornings haven't quietly deserved them all along.

Perhaps ordinary mornings were the occasion all along.

There is something wonderfully unnecessary about setting the table just for yourself.

No guests.

No occasion.

No reason to impress anyone.

Just an open window.

Coffee that politely asks for another cup.

Fresh flowers that don't mind who's looking.

A table that isn't waiting for company.

Only for you.

Perhaps beautiful mornings don't begin with more time.

Perhaps they begin with one beautifully unnecessary decision.

The linen napkins.

The favourite cup.

The plate you've been saving for "someone special."

Somehow, the morning starts behaving differently.

Coffee tastes a little better.

Breakfast forgets it had anywhere else to be.

Even the newspaper seems to have better stories.

Nothing extraordinary has happened.

Except that an ordinary morning was treated like an occasion.

And perhaps that's all it was waiting for.