Our Daily Bread.
I always thought it meant food. Until today. I know, crazy to admit that at this age where I am that I'm not saying, I'm just coming to a new conclusion about that statement.
Maggie's First Communion retreat is on Saturday, and they are supposed to bring in a loaf of bread. They said it can be any type of bread. It's symbolic and will be blessed, so we are supposed to make sure we consume it or dispose of any leftovers properly, according to tradition.
It's kindof funny going to the grocery store within a few hours of the retreat. You'll see a slew of parents buying a single loaf of bread, and the puzzled looks on the clerks faces are priceless. They often remark at it even, wondering why everyone is coming in to buy a single loaf, and nothing else. But we like to bake ours.
LOL - ha ha, not from scratch. I would like to try that, but I simply don't have time. We use the frozen bread loaf that comes from the freezer section. It thaws, then rises, and we place it in the oven to bake. It's really the best bread ever. Of course, if you are a connoisseur, you will probably beg to differ. But I'm not talking about the taste of it. You see, after it comes out of the oven, it's all warm and wonderful. And when you smear a tiny bit of real butter on a slice of it, it melts into perfection. And it takes me back to a very much simpler time.
My grandmother made the same kind, and she had a wooden block that was carved out to hold a loaf of bread. All along the sides were slits to make sure you sliced it evenly. I'd sit at the olive green formica counter top on a swivel stool and watch her cut pieces of it to serve with Sunday dinner. And she'd always give me a slice. Now I don't like bread. Never did. I'm not sure why, but I just don't. But this bread, well, it's special. And like I said, takes me back to a time when just being a little girl was my most important job.
And it was a very important job that I took quite seriously. I loved my grandmothers with all I had. As I aged and moved away from home, I called them every chance I got - the relationship between a grandparent and a grandchild is pretty special, y'all. I learned so much from them. They were so sweet, patient, and stopped whatever it was they were doing to talk to me. I suppose the gift granted to them is the wisdom to have lived enough to realize the importance of family and time. Too bad we all don't get that sooner.
So I thought I'd celebrate their lives again - I wanted to honor them still. And this year, Maggie's bread was baked in Grandma Sammie's loaf pan. We will slice it in the little bread box that she passed down to me. And it will be blessed at the retreat where we pass on a legacy. For where in the world would we be without our grandmothers' prayers? I had two incredible examples of faith, and I do realize the treasure they gave to me, to our whole family, in this. Those little eyes watched you, sweet grandmothers, thank you so much for lending your ears to listen and for showing us your ways that gently guided us along.
And I realize that Our Daily Bread is more than just food. Today I see it as the Daily Grind. Those challenging moments that make us better and feed our souls. How special is the loaf that we had to wait for, baked with love in our own kitchen. The tough parts weren't so tough after all.
After all, the bread is delicious.
I always thought it meant food. Until today. I know, crazy to admit that at this age where I am that I'm not saying, I'm just coming to a new conclusion about that statement.
Maggie's First Communion retreat is on Saturday, and they are supposed to bring in a loaf of bread. They said it can be any type of bread. It's symbolic and will be blessed, so we are supposed to make sure we consume it or dispose of any leftovers properly, according to tradition.
It's kindof funny going to the grocery store within a few hours of the retreat. You'll see a slew of parents buying a single loaf of bread, and the puzzled looks on the clerks faces are priceless. They often remark at it even, wondering why everyone is coming in to buy a single loaf, and nothing else. But we like to bake ours.
LOL - ha ha, not from scratch. I would like to try that, but I simply don't have time. We use the frozen bread loaf that comes from the freezer section. It thaws, then rises, and we place it in the oven to bake. It's really the best bread ever. Of course, if you are a connoisseur, you will probably beg to differ. But I'm not talking about the taste of it. You see, after it comes out of the oven, it's all warm and wonderful. And when you smear a tiny bit of real butter on a slice of it, it melts into perfection. And it takes me back to a very much simpler time.
My grandmother made the same kind, and she had a wooden block that was carved out to hold a loaf of bread. All along the sides were slits to make sure you sliced it evenly. I'd sit at the olive green formica counter top on a swivel stool and watch her cut pieces of it to serve with Sunday dinner. And she'd always give me a slice. Now I don't like bread. Never did. I'm not sure why, but I just don't. But this bread, well, it's special. And like I said, takes me back to a time when just being a little girl was my most important job.And it was a very important job that I took quite seriously. I loved my grandmothers with all I had. As I aged and moved away from home, I called them every chance I got - the relationship between a grandparent and a grandchild is pretty special, y'all. I learned so much from them. They were so sweet, patient, and stopped whatever it was they were doing to talk to me. I suppose the gift granted to them is the wisdom to have lived enough to realize the importance of family and time. Too bad we all don't get that sooner.
So I thought I'd celebrate their lives again - I wanted to honor them still. And this year, Maggie's bread was baked in Grandma Sammie's loaf pan. We will slice it in the little bread box that she passed down to me. And it will be blessed at the retreat where we pass on a legacy. For where in the world would we be without our grandmothers' prayers? I had two incredible examples of faith, and I do realize the treasure they gave to me, to our whole family, in this. Those little eyes watched you, sweet grandmothers, thank you so much for lending your ears to listen and for showing us your ways that gently guided us along.
And I realize that Our Daily Bread is more than just food. Today I see it as the Daily Grind. Those challenging moments that make us better and feed our souls. How special is the loaf that we had to wait for, baked with love in our own kitchen. The tough parts weren't so tough after all.
After all, the bread is delicious.
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