In Communion

The students tolerated her learning experience of teaching them and were celebrating her last day. They had listened to the grey haired white woman from the North teaching young black students in the South about the Civil War. The students, who were familiar with police sirens at night, deadly fights, having the utilities turned off, brought the pizza and cake. The vegetarian adult student would have chosen a different topping for the pizza. She ate the pepperoni while sharing stories and saying good-bye.

Blessed ~ Broken ~ Shared

Her skin was sticky and covered with dirt. Her hair was tangled and wild. She was eating a snack that had been carefully allocated with the hope that everyone would have something to eat. Next to her a woman sat, a stack of papers in her arm, feeling rushed to get to all the places she needed to be. Instead of asking the questions that were required, the woman sat on the curb and looked, really looked at the young child. When the young child smiled, really smiled, the woman knew they just shared the most nourishing meal of the day.

Blessed ~ Broken ~ Shared

In a small room in the massive building, overlooking the historic river, she raised the small gold plate containing the morsel of bread above her head. The intimate circle of people joined together silently, reverently. She felt completely open. Her hope, pain, promise and failures, were visible and sacred. This physically simple act was not a protest yet all there knew it was against all rules. Performing the ritual was more than a physical representation. The circle of experience, faith and hope created a space where limitations dissolved and light filled every crevice.

Blessed ~ Broken ~ Shared

In Communion

Extraordinarily ordinary

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