Eating together brings a level of unity nothing else can bring.

Hello, everyone.

Welcome to my blog and another wonderful edition of the Hive Learner's featured post. I was born into a family that has lots and lots of beliefs; some of the beliefs I wonder how they came about, but my mom especially took it so seriously, and we were forced to follow in her footsteps whether we liked it or not. My mom tried to ensure that she raised us (my siblings and I) exactly the same way her parents raised her and her siblings; they were raised right, and she felt the need to apply the same method, and one of the rules that came with the method applied was having to eat together.

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My mom is a strong believer in the sayings "a family that prays together stays together" and "a family that eats together also stays together." She did everything to make sure that we followed in her footsteps and that the habit of eating together and praying together was planted in us. She did succeed in getting us on track, but it took a lot of ups and downs. My siblings and I did not like the idea of eating together for so many reasons; some believed that the other would get to eat more than the other because one eats faster than the other, and another might have the belief that the other lacks table manners and will not want to eat with him or her.

I go to friends houses, and they eat on different plates, and everyone has their own plate, while in my house the many plates we have are mainly used by visitors, as we (the kids) all eat inside a big tray pan, and then my parents have a plate of their own. I envied friends who, in their house, ate differently and not together. I believed eating alone allows you to eat at your own pace, with no rushing and no one to fight with or shout at to observe table manners.

Those days my siblings and I would always fight no matter the quantity of the food; whether the food was enough or not, there was definitely going to be a fight, but that did not stop my mom from putting our next meal in the same tray pan just like the last one that caused chaos and so much fighting. Those days the spoons meant for eating became weapons; we used them to hit each other, and Mom switched our spoons to plastic spoons. She took the weapons away, but the fighting still persisted, and we went back to using our hands.

Back then our every meal ended with a fight; even when neighbors suggested my mom make it 2 persons per plate, she declined and continued having all of us eat from the same tray pan. No matter how hungry you are, you have to wait for the other person to return home before you eat, or you can go out looking for them if you feel you cannot wait for them to come back at their own time. All of these caused us to love each other more; I don't know how, but it just happened.

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At first we thought our mom was doing us bad, but today we have seen how much eating together brought us close. Today, even as grown-ups, we still want to eat with each other on our own accord and not be forced to. No matter how small the food is, we want to share with each other. I have been made to believe that indeed a family that eats together stays together, and every family should practice that too.