Breaking Bread

What is it about eating together that erases uneasiness and creates bonds of friendship?

Today we invited a couple of long-term guests from California in for Sunday dinner. They have stayed with us five years running for almost the whole month of October each year. Don owns some property north of town and his father, Ron, comes along. They both love the outdoors and love to hunt. Some years they have brought along other family members, but this year it's just the two of them.

Ron is a gardener and fisherman at home. He brought us vegetables from his garden and fish he caught in the ocean and bottled himself. He is not the hiker he once was and spends lots of time glassing the hillside and positioning himself for a good shot close to the truck.

Don is more of a mountaineer, younger and more agile. He works hard for his trophies and has also helped others to bag and pack out their animals. Don is a plumber by trade and after dinner today even helped Seth repair a leak in one of our water heaters. (Now he can write off part of his trip expenses, because it was business!?!)

Anyway, as we sat down to eat, there was some awkwardness between us all--two strangers, Sarah and Jon and their boys, Seth and me and Mariah. A quick blessing was offered and then the food was passed around. All "weirdness" evaporated as food disappeared and cups were emptied and refilled. No one felt inclined to leave the table too quickly(except the little ones), and we carried on a lively conversation while Mariah's blondie brownies baked. Then the table was cleared and dessert served and still we sat comfortably sharing the afternoon.

Guests regularly come and go here, often soon forgotten . But those who share a meal or two will
be remembered and welcomed back as friends. It's something magic about breaking bread together, sharing a meal and a Sunday afternoon.