Sundays for me always come with a routine, a visit to someone, whether it’s a friend or someone from church. So yesterday, I decided to go to a church member's house. When I got there, he welcomed me warmly, offered me a drink, and suggested we sit outside since there was no electricity, and the inside was like an oven. I agreed, and soon enough, we were out on his veranda, chatting and just enjoying the open air.
We talked about all sorts of things from life, family, even some church gist that made us laugh. We were there for almost an hour, just having a nice time. Then suddenly, he jumped up, remembering he had left food cooking when I arrived. By then, it was already too late; the food was burnt beyond saving. I felt so bad, realizing I was the reason he’d forgotten. But he just laughed it off, saying, “Stephen, these things happen.”
When we finally took the pot off the stove and looked inside, it was rice, all burnt to the bottom. The hunger in me was strong, and seeing that ruined meal was like torture. But he shrugged and said, “Let’s just eat it as it is. Today, this is our own version of ‘daily bread.’” We both laughed because, really, what could we do?
Long story short, we dished out the parts of the rice that weren’t totally burnt, and feasted till we were satisfied.
