A Pinch of Happy Is Worth a Pound of Hemingway
Tea and a new baby, 2008
I was reading Michelle Scorziello ‘s article about dear old tea.
Her story reminded me of one of the happiest moments of my life, when the tea tray came into my hospital room after my baby was born.
They served the tea in a large wide cup and on a saucer with Marie biscuits. The cup was wide enough for me to dip the Marie biscuit into the tea without having to break the biscuit. That wide teacup made me crazy happy.
A few moments later, they brought my baby into to be fed, all purple and wrinkled. They rolled the tea tray away and placed the placid baby in my arms.
My baby would not open her eyes for six more days. She didn’t like that she’d already been born and she was sulking, keeping her eyes closed — like a teenager who didn’t want to be shaken awake.
I still recall that day, the sunshine of that morning, the knowledge that all I had to do was feed her while the hospital staff watched over my sleeping baby — the utter peace I felt.
