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Pravin Kumar
Age: 60 Zodiac: 
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 Posted: Wed Mar 26, 2008 9:55 am |
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I remember my first tea. It took place in my backyard. On a bright spring day with flowers blooming and the birds singing a lively tune, I commandeered a wooden crate for a makeshift table, turning it upside-down. Throwing a small red-and-white-checked piece of cloth over the top, I began smoothing it with my hands, making sure it hung just right on all sides. I was excited. My first tea was about to begin.
In the center of the table, I placed a small vase spilling over with wildflowers picked from my backyard. The flowers, the colors of spring, were sweet smelling and reminded me of perfume my mama sometimes wore. They were perfect for my first tea. Sitting beside the table, inside a miniature brown wicker trunk, a fine china tea set was nestled snug in silk-covered straw. Picking up a cup, I tipped it toward the light. I could see the tiny imprinted words “bone china” through the milky-white bottom of the teacup. “It’s a sure sign of fine china,” Mama said. “When you have a tea, only your best china should be used.”
One by one, I lifted the delicate pieces painted with red roses, green leaves, and vines, and placed each piece carefully and just so on the checkered cloth. The creamer with milk, the bowl full of sugar cubes, a small chocolate cake, and the teapot filled with warm Earl Grey finished the setting. Now everything was ready.
Soon, my guests began to arrive and sat upon the ground around the table with the checkered cloth. Veronica was first and sat primly to my left. Looking particularly fetching in a pink satin dress with ecru lace, she sported a jaunty matching bonnet on top of her tight strawberry curls. I arranged the skirt of her dress around her to keep it from being soiled. Kay arrived next, and she was lovely, wearing a white bonnet over her sandy brown hair. A baby-blue-and-white-striped pinafore with embroidered pink flowers covered the powder-blue organza dress she wore, bringing out the deep crystal-blue of her eyes. Suzy, last to arrive, sat across from me, hatless but striking with her long, golden ringlets hanging to her waist. The thick white satin jacket with gold trim and loops of gold braids hanging from her left shoulder looked especially nice with the white pleated skirt she had chosen to wear.
I had slipped on a spring dress with a soft wispy skirt, borrowed from my mama. After using a bobby pin to pull my wavy blonde hair away from my face, I put a pink pillbox hat with thin netting, hanging at the edge of my eyes, on my head. I sat down, spreading the full skirt in a half-circle behind me. I hoped I looked as elegant as I felt. With everyone in place, my first tea began.
As hostess, I poured the golden brown liquid from the teapot into each dainty cup, adding just the right amount of sugar and cream. After placing tiny slices of chocolate cake on each plate, we began our tea. They all agreed it was delicious. It was nice to have time to relax and take pleasure in sipping a cup of tea and enjoying the lovely afternoon outdoors with friends. We laughed often, and the conversation became lively as we exchanged gossip and caught up on the general news of the week. However, the afternoon was fleeing fast, and all too soon, the cake was gone, the teapot was empty, and my first tea party was at an end. Before long, it was time to say our good-byes, but before they went inside, my guests and I agreed it was a delightful tea, and we would do it again soon.
Years have passed since I was seven and had my first tea with my dolls. Since that day, I’ve had many teas—some with my dolls, a few with my mama, many with friends. However, the one most vivid in my mind is that spring afternoon in my backyard celebrating my first tea.
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