The Prayer My Grandmother Said in a Language None of Us Speak
My grandmother said a particular blessing before meals in a language that none of the rest of us in the family ever learned to speak, a handful of sentences...
Read the pieceAuthor · Tessa Marchetti
I write A Home Filled With Love from the house I have kept for most of my life. Most of what I write about arrived here from somebody else's house first, and I would rather tell you the version with the mistake still in it.
Christmas Morning, Room by Room
The angel on top of our tree has a chipped wing. She has had it since before my children were born, since…
The Staircase Wall We Built One Frame at a Time
The first frame that went up on our staircase wall was not chosen. It was inherited, and everything else on that wall…
The Extra Chair Nobody Talks About
Every family table seems to have one chair that doesn't quite belong to anyone anymore. Ours has been a catch-all, a guest…
Deciding Who Gets the Good China
My mother's good china sat behind glass doors in a cabinet in the dining room for as long as I can remember,…
The Guest Towels That Never Match
There is a drawer in my linen closet, second from the bottom, that holds six towels, and not one of them matches…
Watering the Same Three Plants in the Same Order Every Morning
Spider plant, then rosemary, then the jade plant that once belonged to my mother, in that order and no other, every morning…
The Potholders That Taught Me to Crochet
I learned to crochet from a stack of dish towels that kept burning my hands, starting with lopsided potholders that got a…
Why We Still Drive Four Hours to the Same Lake Every Summer
My father started driving to that lake before I was born, back when it was just him and my mother and a…
The Tablecloth That Only Comes Out Once a Year
There is a tablecloth folded at the bottom of my linen cabinet that I do not touch from the last Thursday in…