A Quiet But Lovely Moment

It was a choice between herbal and regular tea. I decided to go for regular. Then it was a matter of flavor. I would drink it plain, but the scent of apples and cinnamon reminds me of Christmas, so a true dilemma it was not. I noticed a silver pouch containing jasmine tea all the way from Vietnam lying next to a bag of flower tea from China, both untouched as I received them shortly before becoming pregnant with Marguerite. Tea in moderation isn't really bad for pregnant women, but I had an aversion to strong aroma, hence their being left to gather dust inside cluttered cupboards. They will be duly appreciated and consumed now that they've been noticed again. The lady who had given me jasmine tea had given coffee to the rest. "But I know without being told that you are a tea person," she replied to my query regarding the difference, as though I unconsciously displayed a quality of zen in the midst of the faculty lounge's caffeine-induced bustle. The stains on my teeth could very well have come from coffee, but it was not very "tea" to be argumentative. I, in fact, am a tea person though. Tea is a culture I delight in.
The heat from the mug warms my hands countering the crispness of the early morning air as I flip through the pages of my devotional. I need this. Later when Marguerite wakes up, she will try to tear the thin leaves of my old Precious Moments Bible as I read a chapter of Psalm to her. Her Bible board book has very little literary merit to it, but will stand the curious manipulation of a ten-month-old's hands. Later when she has learned not to be burned by hot liquid (not from any personal experience, I hope), we shall often pause for lovely tea moments to savor and reflect upon life. In the interim, I sit relishing the serenity of dawn and dreaming of those future Marguerite moments.