A Bread Narrative

"A Bread Narrative"

(“Jesus replied: ‘I am the bread that gives life! No one who comes to me will ever be hungry. No one who has faith in me will ever be thirsty.’” John 6:35)

I spread the white cream cheese, one side at a time,
onto each half of my blueberry bagel. That is my breakfast,
two, three, or four times a week. That is my breakfast except
for the two times a week I pour almond crunch cereal into a bowl with milk,
and the one or two times a week I smear the same cream cheese
onto two slices of cinnamon toast.

But yesterday I spread the cream cheese on a bagel and walked out the door.

It was Sunday morning, the first day of Fall, and the half block to the church
was mostly grass, gold and brown after late summer’s dehydration, though
soft from the fog inching up from the river a quarter mile away; half eaten
I brought the second half, unthinking and rote, to my mouth as I strode across
the lawn. And half of that half, with an unhappy crease, fell upon the ground,
upside down, a sandwich of earth, cream cheese and bagel.

I thought about picking it up, not to eat, I knew there were cookies with the
coffee soon to appear as people began to populate the morning worship.
I thought about picking it up, just so no children, closer to the ground than I,
might like a bit of my breakfast as well.

I thought about picking it up, but left it there instead.

We prayed and we laughed inside our simple building. We rejoiced that
God allowed a young girl to keep her cat, it’s true. Last week the evil cat
was attacking all three other kittens in the home, and would have to live alone,
unless it learned to behave. We prayed. Now the cats get along, and one young girl
thinks God is pretty cool to do that.

After all had left, and standing for an hour long conversation with a constituent
who had no idea that my head pain increases the more I just stand and talk
and talk and stand. Inside I nearly toppled onto a pew, grabbing my temples and crying,
“Let me go home.” Instead I listened; and it was good.

I strode across the lawn, going home, and noticed my quarter-bagel was gone. I
am sure a
blue jay enjoyed a feast, a fortuitous find, and I suffered little at the loss
of just a bit of Sunday breakfast on my way
walking to church.