The table, says Sergio, used to be an altar

It was sacramental, where the body and blood was truly shared

It was a confessional where all was forgiven, the Prodigal welcomed

Where you came in need and left fulfilled

Where you met in communion, bitterness laid aside, differences suspended

Where strangers were welcomed

Where to have was celebrated and to have not was left at the door

Where we shared and served each other

Where need came before appetite.

The table was strong, it would last a lifetime, it drew us back.

A romantic view perhaps.

Now, we eat off our knees, alone, silently, before a screen.