Julia Brown

The Chaotic Kitchen-a Hub of Love

Our kitchen is the second smallest room in the house. We call it the one-person kitchen. Papers bury the kitchen table, which takes up every inch of remaining space in the poorly designed room. Yet come to my house, and you’ll probably find everyone sitting at the kitchen table reading The New Yorker, National Geographic, or The New York Times. My grandmother leaves her Jewish newspaper, The Forward, lying on her seat. Her coffee cup sits on the table every day when I get home, drained but for the dregs which form a muddy ring at the bottom.

After my parents return from work, they meander into the kitchen at their leisure to check the day’s mail for anything “good,” or readable while my brother and I do our homework. Despite many angry words exchanged over the matter, the previous week’s mail always accumulates on the table. My parents read their medical journals there, and on the table they remain until the next time they come into the kitchen browsing for a magazine, and find the journal again.

Over countless dinners my parents chide my brother and me for not cleaning our things from the kitchen table. Nonetheless, we always come there to read or simply sit, and cleaning the table does not prevent us from bringing our reading material back to it. No matter how far away from the kitchen our books and newspapers get moved, we always come back with them the very next day to sit and read while in each other’s company.

Finding ways to spend time together is difficult, but the kitchen is a place we meet in to talk to or sit with one another. No change to our lifestyle or kitchen table can prevent us from taking a few minutes to be all together. This is why the table never stays clean for long. Our shared love of being around one another draws us into the kitchen like children invited in for cookies. The treat we receive, however, is one sweeter than even the best dessert. It is the satisfying gift of love.





[TABLE OF CONTENTS, LHS CLASS OF 2011 EDITION]


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