Authored by Isma Ishtiaq, a resident of Delta, B.C. For more details on CBC’s First Person stories, refer to the FAQ.
One cherished memory from my early years is the family gatherings we enjoyed, seated informally on a small beige mat. These moments often unfolded during sunset, with a gentle amber light filtering through the room. Our meals, typically featuring a fragrant pot of biryani or a rich butter chicken with naan, were central to these gatherings. Encircled, we passed dishes, exchanged stories, and shared the highlights of our day. This tradition, passed down from my father’s upbringing in Lahore to our family in the calm suburbs of north Delta, was a bond that transcended time.Â
My father instilled in us the belief that dining together on the ground was more than just a meal; it was a practice that nurtured gratitude for the food we were fortunate to have. As I sat on that modest woven mat, I realized it symbolized the ties that bound us as a family and the deep-rooted celebration of our heritage across generations.Â
However, as we grew older, the demands of work, school, and extracurricular activities eroded the time we once devoted to these family dinners. Over a decade had slipped by without us gathering on that familiar mat.Â
Kimchi, chopsticks, Korean, French and English. It’s just a typical dinner with the Langevin Kim family in Verdun.
It took a Thanksgiving gathering, when I turned 23, to revive thoughts of our family tradition of dining together on the floor. I invited my friends, from diverse cultural backgrounds, to join my family for Thanksgiving and shared this custom with them. Intrigued, my friends embraced the idea and were eager to participate.Â
After rummaging through the storage closet, I unearthed the worn beige mat. Unfazed by its humble condition, my friends gathered around as I spread it out on the living room floor, forming a circle reminiscent of our past gatherings. Placing our plates of Thanksgiving turkey before us, we recreated the scene.Â
What followed was a heartwarming experience. My father, dining at the table, smiled and joined us on the floor, narrating the tradition to my friends as the other parents observed from afar. Most of my friends cherished the experience, with one likening it to sitting around a campfire!