Sipping Tea

It was a cold bitter winter in New England, the frosty windows were a luminous white with snow plastering across the slippery streets of the old neighborhood. I can still remember when my mom would fill up the glass tea kettle with water, place it on the stovetop and watch the blue flames surround the base with a warm glowing hearth. I would watch in fascination as the water slowly began to boil. It started with a few tiny bubbles scurrying across the bottom of the kettle, and In no time after that, it became a frenzy of effervescence dancing around shooting straight up the pot.

She then reached for the tea box and unwrap the tiny package to reveal what I remember as Cha' (tea in Portuguese). She placed a tea bag into a mug along with the hot water and within a few minutes, it was pure magic. The clear hot liquid transformed into a wondrous golden elixir. The subtle fragrance had a richness, that of a peaceful forest after a rainstorm. It was clean, warm and inviting.

That experience has stayed with me for all these years. The simple sounds of water being poured into a kettle have become so familiar and ingrained within me. So today I decided to be a Prince for a day and sip on a cup of tea.

-daddy dabbles