This week I decided to make a quiet and unassuming loaf of bread, Maple Oatmeal Sandwich Bread.  I like to describe it as the girl next door of bread–a bread I think I will come back to again and again for its ease, for its subtle flavor, and for the way it works for making lovely little sandwiches or accompanies eggs for a satisfying yet not outrageous breakfast.

For my giveaway this week, I packed the kids in the car and I told them we were going driving to give away the bread.  And to Target.  I didn’t already have someone in mind for this week, so I felt like it was another opportunity to flex my giveaway-to-strangers skills.  My kids were thrilled just to get to go with me.  Except, nope, they sure weren’t.  They were all about the fun questions.  “Where are we going?”  “Why did you drive this way?” “Do I have to get out?”  It is summer, bless them, and their focus is firmly planted inward at the moment.  I explained the plan.  We had bread and we were going to drive around till we gave it away.  Hmm, suddenly I held their interest a  teeny bit more.  This whole exercise in crazy could be over sooner once the bread was given away.  I pulled into the parking lot at Target and saw a man waiting for the bus.  I pulled into a parking spot nearby and just waited to see if he was the one.  Nope, it didn’t feel right.  I pulled out and drove around the parking lot.  Then inspiration hit me.  We would go somewhere else, but you know, after I picked up toothpaste.

I pulled into a parking spot and directly in front of me a car pulled in too.  A minivan holding 4 armed service men and women pulled into the parking spot at the same moment I had, like it was meant to be.  And I firmly believe it was.  It always just clicks.  I knew they were the ones that were supposed to receive my bread this week.  The only thing left was to give it to them.  Deep breath.

Now, I know I talked a big game about overcoming fear a few weeks ago when I set off to Trader Joe’s and delivered bread, and I meant it.  But this was a new time, and well, it is a bit nerve-wracking when it is a complete stranger.  So with one child unsure what to do, and one hiding behind the car, I walked over to the minivan and motioned for the driver to roll down the window and the craziest thing happened.

He rolled the window down. 

I am definitely sure I bumbled through the next part.  Something like…”I am not a crazy person, I have a website and blog where you can see what I do (not really proving I am not crazy though, right?), and basically, I bake a loaf of bread a week and give it away as an act of service, and well, you guys are definitely big on service, so would you be willing to take my bread?”

Pause.   

A genuine smile crossed the kind man’s face and he said, “I would be happy to.” That was it.  That was the moment.  The smile, the taking of what I was offering.  The reaching out with his hands to receive what I had in mine.  That was where all the magic lived.  Honestly, I am not sure if I would do the same as he did.  It was an amazing moment of connection and trust between two strangers.  It felt rare and wonderful.  It definitely left me grinning, and I hope it did the same for him.

As I turned back toward my car and my kids, and we made our way toward the store for toothpaste and other sundries, I couldn’t help but contemplate all the ways that could have gone wrong.  He could have been horrified and refused to take it.  I could have chickened out.  He (rightfully) could have taken issue with my use of the term service which for me involved flour, water, and time, whereas his service requires something much, much more.  But he didn’t.  He took the bread.  I hope he appreciated it.  Even if he didn’t eat it.  Even if when I walked away he thought, whelp, she is crazy.  I hope for one brief moment he understood my desire to care for him as a fellow human in this world.  After all, that is the whole game right there.

PS.  I should note that in general, my darling spawn are quite engaged with this bread baking and giving endeavor.  They love the recipe testing and tasting, and they love the giveaways when they get to pick the who, and even when they don’t.  I think it is when we stray into approaching strangers that my children, especially my newly turned teenager, feels the sting of embarrassment because his mom is being…(gasp) different.  We have all been there!