Come In For More Than a Coal of Fire

“What did you come for, a coal of fire?” my dad used to ask if I breezed in and out of my parents’ home for just a short visit. What he meant was, he wished I’d sit down and talk for a bit. Once, long ago, people would borrow coals of fire to get their own hearth fire kindled and since a coal would last only a short while before burning out, the borrower would have to hurry back home while it was still hot.

Now I wish I had taken time to sit and talk more often. Oh, I did visit frequently and stayed longer, but not as often as Dad and Mom would have liked. Now, I know all too well how they felt. It’s not anybody’s fault because everyone is busy, having jobs to go to, children to care for, and a hundred things to do before day’s end. Still, just sitting down for a good talk is a time to be cherished and happens too rarely.

Sadly, technology has taken the place of a lot of togetherness. We can “talk” to anyone, anywhere in the world, we can view the latest film, find out what has happened on the world stage, and know all about what horse won the Belmont Stakes, and what scandal is raging across the world of politics. But, how about sitting down with phones and iPads laid aside, looking at each other face to face, and actually talking? Is that a lost part? Is it not exciting or appealing enough?

I like conversation around food. There’s something about enjoying a warm meal, looking each other in the eye, and finding out what’s happening, not in the world of politics or in North Korea, but right here at home. What are the hopes and dreams, the challenges and triumphs, the problems and uncertainties that make up the hours of each day? To me, those things are the important things. That’s what I like to hear about.

So, next time a question arises about what gift to give, how about giving the gift of conversation? How about dropping in for a visit or scheduling a get-together, and discovering the beauty of exchanging ideas or asking questions or solving problems? Technology is great, but it is a pretty cold, impersonal thing; even a coal of fire glows with more warmth.