Thanksgiving has always held a special place in my heart. Growing up, it was always a time we would be with family. It was a time of games and lots of good food. One of my favorite memories was my mother preparing the table with her tablecloth — a white cloth with hand-stitched names in an array of colors that covered every inch of the fabric. Names from the past. Family members who are no longer with us. Friends who have impacted our lives. Our children and grandchildren.

Each one a reminder of the time spent at mother’s table.

This tablecloth spans almost fifty years of memories. My grandparents’ shaky signatures sit alongside my children’s bold handwriting. Aunts and uncles, family friends, cousins, missionaries, exchange students — each name tells a story of my parents opening their home to share a meal.

Mother started this tradition at holidays and when special guests were present. She would pull it from her closet, cleaned and freshly ironed, and lay it lovingly on the table. No meal was too simple, no guest too ordinary to earn a place on that sacred cloth.

At Thanksgiving and Christmas, we enjoyed looking at the names. Each was written in that person’s handwriting with the date they ate at the table. This would invoke a memory or conversation about that person. The tablecloth became our family’s gratitude journal, written in permanent ink across decades. As the years have gone on, my mother and father have both passed. I am now the proprietor of the tablecloth. I don’t really want to use it. I’m afraid of soiling it or the names rubbing off. But I can hear my mother say, “Use it! Remember the people on it. Be hospitable. Be thankful.”

Thankful. That word echoes through my heart as I unfold the tablecloth and see the tapestry of relationships woven across its surface.In the Bible, we read of many instances where, when Christ was on earth, he shared meals with others. In Matthew 9 NIV, we read of Jesus eating with Matthew, the tax collector. He ate with his good friends, Mary, Martha, and Lazarus. The most famous meal was the Last Supper, where Jesus prepared the disicples for his upcoming death. Jesus knew that humans sometimes need physical reminders to remember things. Through communion, Christ gave a physical example of his death, burial, and resurrection at this supper. He knew that this tangible act, set around a meal at a table, would stir our hearts toward thankfulness at the rememberance of any table.

1 Corinthians 11:24 ESV says, “And when he had given thanks, he broke it, and said, ‘This is my body, which is for you. Do this in remembrance of me.'” Notice those words, “And when he had given thanks.” Even in His final hours, Christ paused to express gratitude. We remember the sacrifices Christ made for us. We remember his death as he gave his body on the cross. We remember that he rose again.

I need reminders, too. And this tablecloth, made by my mother, is a perfect way to remember those who have come to the table — and to give thanks for each life that has touched ours.

I will use our family tablecloth this Thanksgiving. I want my children and grandchildren to remember those who have walked before us — those who have left us and those still here. Just as when I partake of the Lord’s supper, remembering and giving thanks for my Lord who gave up everything for me, I will spread this tablecloth and give thanks for the beautiful community He has woven into our lives, one shared meal at a time.