Warm feelings abound when I think of a tea party. My first experience with drinking tea was as a young adult. I was visiting a friend and her new baby. She introduced me to the lovely ritual of making a pot of tea. I am a pushover for ritual. Although I’m one of those people with taste buds that don’t process the tea flavor well, I’ll always gladly accept a cup of tea. I’m accepting what it stands for more then how it tastes. Serving tea is an act of friendship and love. This ritual can begin at a young age.
My Grandchildren received a tea set as soon as they began pretend play. Their imaginations soared around the idea of preparing and serving “tea” to their Mimi. While sitting in a child’s size chair, perched beside a miniature table I watched as they prepared our tea party. Water went into the pot (and elsewhere) tea from the pot into the teeny, tiny cups, stirred with an even teenier, tinier spoon, then sipped, not gulped. A celebration of life shared with some of the most special people I know!