#28

The time for grace is always
a time of prayer.

Said the man who didn’t want to be disturbed while he ate.

It is true, though,
that these few moments of the day
are scarce and often neglected.
But is it ever an excuse
to deny connection?

A hardworking man, covered in soot,
dust, sweat — his hands still stained
and calloused —
after a whole day of labor,
finally gets the chance to relax
and enjoy his meal.

“Dad, can you help me?”

Should the man say,
“Begone, I am eating!”
or,
“Why don’t you join me? Let’s do it later.”

But this is inside a home.

A teacher, after a few hours of being busy,
finally gets the rest he claims
he so deserved,
and a meal his wife cooked —
both his favorite,
both a comfort he rarely gets to enjoy.

“Excuse me, sir… can you help me with this?”
A small voice from behind.
It was the teacher’s least favorite student.
The boy pointed at a question
only he didn’t understand.

Should the teacher say,
“Come here, let’s take a look, shall we?”
or,
“Begone, I am eating.”

I know it can be a trivial thing,
even a minute one,
but it’s these connections
that, I am certain,
we must never let
be severed.

But I might be wrong.

A dinner — meant as a feast,
a small get-together of a family of three —
is interrupted by a knock
on the front door.

“Hey man, let’s drink. It’s my birthday.”

The man of the house smiled at his friend,
then looked back in disappointment.
“Alright… I’ll be there.”

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