one enchanting afternoon

I had one goal for our Easter party this year.  I wanted our guests to feel enchanted. 

I think that feeling enchantment can be pretty elusive.  Sometimes you don't even know how to get it.  Maybe you've never thought about it.

But I think about it.

I think about how it feels to know that someone has carefully set a place at the table just for you. 

I think about the joy of seeing pitchers full of cool drinks on a hot day. 

I think about how good a salad straight from the farm tastes, especially after a long winter.

I think about piles of homemade biscuits that never seem to get any smaller, so it is perfectly acceptable to take two.  Or three. 

And I think about savoring a slice of pie that took hours to create.  About how that is a gift I can give my friends and family- time.  I can take the time to make things that they may not make for themselves.

In return, they gift me with the sound of laughter through the whole house, with tables stretched across two rooms, filled with faces I love.

It's a lot like Christmas, with all these gifts flying around.

And after we had all eaten our fill, the party moved to the yard, where a rousing game of croquet ensued. 

There were plenty of spots in the shade for spectators.

Some of us started the afternoon as perfect strangers and finished it as fast friends.

After we had waved goodbye to the last guest, after every last dish was clean, after we'd moved all the furniture back to its usual spots, we finally had a moment to rest.  And as we sat on the sofa, eating chocolate berry pie by candlelight, we talked about how wonderful the whole day was.  How great the food and the company and the yard and the sun.

It was...enchanting.