I watched Jane Austen's Emma the other night. I love both versions: one with Gwyneth and one with Kate. The story is so sweet. I couldn't help but stare when I saw Emma and Harriet Smith talking, taking tea together, nearly knee to knee.
Hardly ever do we meet over tea; knee to knee; face to face, to catch up on all the news. We meet for coffee in shops; we meet for dinner in restaurants; we email; we Facebook; we Myspace, we text. In Emma's day, face to face was the only way---save for letters hand-delivered---to communicate. They savored every moment of someone coming to visit. Things were tidy (cuz the "help" did it!) and upon the arrival, everyone straightened up to look as if they hadn't a care in the world when the visitors were announced. Then the visiting began and the focus was on each other, on each other's face and words.
I see my friend Connie very infrequently even though we talk on the phone every day. It was as if God heard my yearning at watching Emma. Connie called me up and said she was coming over to bring me some books to read--and I put the kettle on. It was a sweet visit; hugging in the flesh, face to face. Gracie adores her, and they made over each other grandly (we had to roll the hairy effects of the loving off of Connie's lovely outfit!)
It was the most peaceful part of my day.
Matchmaking aside, Emma knew what she was doing.