Gramma's Bone China by Elizabeth Anna Samudio
I love a pretty table. One that looks like an English garden. For this, old china engraved with roses, lilacs and lily of the valley is best. You know, the romance is greatly due to floral designs set in bone. Did you know that bone china actually contains crushed animals bone? Bone china is endangered.
When I was a little girl, my grandfather traveled the world. Often he would bring back a teacup for his lovely wife. Grandmother never pointed out to me that some of her sets were monetarily more valuable than others. I just had an affinity toward the chintz and transferware—of which, she only has two sets.
Well, one and a half. A year ago my mom accidentally broke the spode cup. So unlike my mom. But I use my favorite things, and accidents do happen. It’s a chance worth taking. Beauty is not meant just to behold—but also to be held. Besides, I didn’t even know what chintz was until I was in my thirties and wanted to add on to the collection.
James and I had gone to Fredericksburg to celebrate our anniversary. In an antique shoppe I discovered a chintz cup exactly—an identical twin—like one my grandmother had. It was a must-have! Then I saw the price tag. Well, needless to say, we left the shoppe empty-handed, and I declared to my husband “WE’RE NEVER USING MY TEACUPS AGAIN!!” At forty-three .I still am hunting through every estate sale I chance upon.
I was promised all the teacups as far back as I can remember. How I loved visiting my gramma and going through her buffet, handling every relic. With grandmother’s church gloves I’d set a table for princesses and princes, and together we drank rare teas that traveled across the ocean on ships where pirates had stolen fine linens and silver. But the black teas were hidden safely and used like gold. And so, I imagined that my grandfather had bargained with a one-legged sailor and traded his pipe tobacco so he could bring home to his maiden the exotic blends of the South Pacific.
I don’t believe my grandmother ever used her ecclection of fine bone china teacups. But I do; and started to when , as a freshmen in college , Gramma boxed up her collection and gave every piece to me. Sadly to admit, some of the pieces have been shattered over the years, but these pieces are tucked away for a mosaic collage I plan to make one day soon so that I can share it with my gramma who is eighty-five. Not only will some bits of bone china from my grandfather’s travels be stuck in mortar—but also my grandmother’s tea set she played with as a child.
Yes, it’s true, some of the most precious treasures we possess break. At two and a half, my son Isaiah discovered a box full of old tissue and small saucers, pitchers, and cups; with out inhabitation, he smashed nearly every piece. I have two saucers, a tiny teacup, and creamer left. This took me nearly a year to let go of, but since I believe that beyond here I will live in a mansion in heaven, I can’t help but think the tiny blue and white dishes made in Germany will be set perfectly for me and filled with piping hot tea accompanied with scones, fresh berries, and clotted cream.
Care to join me?