Please Come

By Andrea Lingle

The light burned golden as the sun lit the horizon on fire. Her hands gripped the sides of a reed fishing basket. Under her hand-woven robe, her nut-brown arms shook with effort. Her strength was usually adequate for any task she chose, but this basket, itself straining under the load, was testing her. Fifty-seven half-loaves of bread.
 
When the teacher had asked for volunteers to pass out food, she had waited for seven breaths, reluctant to put herself forward. But, even with the steady stream of those willing to help, the teacher called for more.
 
Please come. I need you.
 
She had approached the teacher’s followers slowly, tucked between an eager man with phylacteries displayed proudly on his forehead and a grandmother with six small children clutching her hem. As she approached the teacher, there didn’t seem to be much food to pass out. She waited in line, looking over the intervening shoulders at a line of wobbly mis-matched baskets set before the teacher. He was picking each one of them up, handing them to the next person, and giving them quiet instructions. He was the stillest person she had ever seen. He did not fidget or glance away. He didn’t shift his weight from foot to foot or adjust his clothing. He looked content. Completely unhurried. Each volunteer would receive the basket, listen to the teacher’s instructions, lift the basket as high as they could, lower the basket, and walk away to begin passing out food to those gathered.
 
When it was her turn, she had approached the teacher with her eyes on the ground. She took the basket wordlessly, listened to the instructions, lifted the basket, and repeated the blessing the teacher gave her. As she lowered the basket, she stared at the lone loaf of bread in the bottom. She met the teacher’s eyes with disbelief. Was she really supposed to turn around and hand out one loaf of bread? The smile she received in return felt like splashing in a brook or sharing a joke so good you laugh until your sides hurt.
 
Just try it. Be sure to break the bread.