Burnt Toast

When I was a kid, my mom would prepare special breakfast every now and then. I remember one morning when my dad walked into the dining room looking like a hurricane victim, after a long hard day at work the previous day.

My mom placed a plate of eggs, sausage and burnt toast in front of him. I waited for my dad’s reaction to the burnt toast, as black as the night and as hard as rock, but there was none. He reached for it, smiled at my mom, and, while he ate it, asked me casually how my day was at school. I did not remember my reply, because I was such in fear of a looming war. He smeared butter and jelly on the black toast with a scraping sound and ate every bite with relish.

When I got up from the table, I heard my mom apologize to my dad for the burnt toast. I will never forget his reply, “Honey, I loved the toast.” Later, when we were alone, I asked Dad if he really liked the burnt toast. He wrapped me in his arms and said,

“Your mom had a hard day yesterday just like me. She went for groceries, paid bills at the bank, weeded the garden, and so on. Besides, burnt toast never hurt anyone. You know, life is full of imperfect things and imperfect people. Why make war when you can let it go?

I am not the best at hardly anything, and I forget birthdays and anniversaries just like everyone else. But what I have learned over the years is to accept each other’s faults and to celebrate each other’s differences, which are important in creating a healthy, growing and lasting relationship.”

I was waiting for my burnt toast to one day appear for me on the breakfast table. It never did.

This was my dad’s prayer I want to share with you.

Lord, teach me to learn
to take the negative things in life
and lay them at your feet.
In the end, you are the only
one who can give us the gift
of lasting relationships,
where burnt toast is a big deal
as foodforthesoul

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