Bless the hands that prepared it

by Helen Rose Pauls

"And bless the hands that prepared it," he ended his prayer for the meal--this lonely, forceful and charismatic freelance street preacher who lived across the road in a dingy basement suite on a pension. He definitely had a "past". Was he a converted ex-con? A thief? A fraud artist? We never knew, but true to our youthful idealism of long ago, we often invited him to share a meal with us.

What we took for granted--a normal family, father, mother and four children around a shared supper table, gathering for encouragement and conversation as much as for the food, conversing in relative peace and harmony--to him was like discovering a miracle. To us parents, he whispered stories of constant fear and abuse as a child. We thought he simply enjoyed observing us, wondering when the masks would fall and the friendly interaction would turn to more familiar shouts and recrimination.

He always ended the grace he offered up in the same way: "And bless the hands that prepared it." It was like a personal blessing to me, the busy mother, the cook, so often taken for granted.

Hospitality has changed since then, and I sometimes wonder how much of society's fear of strangers I share, and whether he would still be welcome today.

Recently, when we asked our adult son to ask the blessing before a family meal, he closed with, "And bless the hands that prepared it." We all smiled, remembering the guest from his childhood.

We all smiled until our teenage son called out, "Costco!" Then we all burst into laughter. Not only has our neighbourliness changed. The lasagna, although I had taken it from the disposable pan and placed it into a decorative baking dish before popping it into the oven, was definitely not the work of my hands. The coleslaw had come from a bagful of precut vegetables; our son had simply added a bottle of our favourite coleslaw dressing and mixed well.

The bagels and cream cheese were delicious, but I didn't even own the recipe. Refreshing cold orange juice came from a carton. Dessert was an ice cream cake that my daughter had pulled from the freezer.

"Lord, we are so thankful for an abundance of good food, and loved ones to enjoy it with, both those in our own family and those in the wider circle. Help us never to take it for granted. Bless the hands that prepared it, bless those who served it and bless us all as we share it. Amen".

Helen Rose Pauls is a member of Sardis (B.C.) Community Church.

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