The Party Nobody Came To

“Will you all help me clean the house and get ready for a party we’re having tonight?” Mom asked one Monday afternoon as we returned from school. Since our parents entertained regularly, Mom’s request didn’t seem unusual. So we vacuumed, dusted, and straightened the house. Dad got out the round tabletop, and we set the table with our nicest dishes. With all the hustle and bustle, we didn’t think about family home evening, which we usually held on Monday evenings.

In the kitchen, Mom was busy cooking several special dishes that she usually made for company.

“Do we get some of this for dinner, too?” I asked, hoping there would be more than enough for the guests. “Who’s coming, anyway?”

“You’ll see,” Mom answered. When everything was ready, Dad disappeared. A few minutes later, the doorbell rang. When my brother went to the door, there stood Dad. “Hi,” he said. “I’m here for the party. Let’s get started.”

By this time we were all gathered around the front door watching Dad. He saw that we didn’t understand. “I’m here for a party,” he repeated. “One just for us.”

That evening was just like the ones my parents usually enjoyed with their friends. We ate Mom’s special dinner and used our best dishes. Then we cleared the table and played games until bedtime. Best of all, we felt important and loved.

Since then, whenever our family reminisces about memorable times, someone always says, “Remember the night we had the party when nobody came?”—Nancy Thomas Davies, Salt Lake City, Utah