Friends and Sweet Tea
Sitting with friends that I had met only moments earlier made me realize how special tea time is. In the normal course of a day, I would not have had time to hear about the reason for the scar that ran from one woman's neck to below the first button on her blouse. I would not have heard about the particularly devasting affects on the Black community of the terrible hurricanes that blew through Florida last year.
We were ten disparate women who had one woman in common. The birthday girl. I had flown in from Nashville for the weekend to celebrate with my friend Thelma. Her Tampa friends already had a celebration planned. The celebration was in a tea room and the only requirement was that we wear big hats.
We lingered over our tea and talked about the concerns in our lives. We talked about what we knew for sure--what we'd learned from life as we aged. We sat and talked until the next party arrived to take over our tea room. Then we took the conversations to the parking lot for another thirty minutes. We didn't know each other, but over tea we'd learned much.
We were ten disparate women who had one woman in common. The birthday girl. I had flown in from Nashville for the weekend to celebrate with my friend Thelma. Her Tampa friends already had a celebration planned. The celebration was in a tea room and the only requirement was that we wear big hats.
We lingered over our tea and talked about the concerns in our lives. We talked about what we knew for sure--what we'd learned from life as we aged. We sat and talked until the next party arrived to take over our tea room. Then we took the conversations to the parking lot for another thirty minutes. We didn't know each other, but over tea we'd learned much.

