Bread on the table 

was the culmination

of a day of hard work

a long involved process

taking hours and hours

the making of homemade bread

 

mothers learned it from their mothers

who learned it from their mothers

the recipe and the tradition passed down

one generation to the next

families bound together by daily bread

the staff of life

 

bread was that delicious aroma

that permeated the house

the warmth from the oven that filled the kitchen

the taste that was as close to heaven

as they could ever get on earth

 

the women who made it

nursed it through till the end

women who held the secret of its making

the miracle of its rise

like manna from heaven

sustaining families witth its blessing

 

now we just go to the store

and buy bread that is packaged

a sterile process

with no satisfaction and no joy

 

we miss the labor of its making

yet we also miss the aroma of it

the taste of its freshness

the warmth of mother's love

baked into each loaf

 

missed is the anticipation

as all waited for the that first slice

so warm and soft

as delicious as a kiss

 

we have lost our way

without the making of bread

we suffer from its absence

people no longer share

the communion of homemade bread

 

give us back the simple goodness

the wholesomeness of sitting down together

as one family

 

Give us this day our daily bread.