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.