Our Thanksgiving bread communion was wonderful. It’s an intergenerational service, which means the children of the congregation don’t go down to their religious education classes after the story, but stay upstairs and participate in the service. The congregation is invited to bring bread to the service and there is a time for sharing the story of the bread. Sometimes these are family stories, sometimes stories of ancestry and traditions, sometimes stories of the baking of the bread itself.
Today, I thought all the sharing was over and was moving on to taking the offering, when several people pointed over my right shoulder. There was a little girl, about six years old, holding a plate of cookies. I said, “Oh, I’m sorry” and asked if she’d like to share her cookies. She carefully placed the plate on the table and I asked her if she’d like to say anything about her cookies.
She nodded and took the microphone. She sat down cross-legged on the steps and said with halting sweetness, “My mommy made these cookies…and I am feeling pretty happy…because I like cookies!” The whole room burst into laughter and applause. We took the offering, blessed the bread, and the children of the congregation carried the baskets and plates into the congregation. There was plenty of bread, and I watched one flustered adult show the third of fourth child that offered her more that her mouth and both hands were already full.
As the baskets were coming forward, the little cookie girl came straight to me. “Can I share the rest of these with my friends,” she asked. “Of course,” I answered. She clutched the plate to her chest and skipped across the entire sanctuary with a big grin on her face.
May all of us be filled with the joy that comes from true gratitude this Thanksgiving.