Some people never arrive empty-handed.
It doesn't seem to matter whether they're visiting for dinner, dropping by for coffee, or stopping in for five minutes.
They show up carrying something.
A loaf of bread.
A bag of peaches.
A pie.
Fresh herbs from the garden.
A box of donuts picked up on the way.
The gift is rarely extravagant.
In fact, it's usually something quite ordinary that says a lot quietly.
"I thought of you before I got here."
Some of my favorite people are the ones who love feeding other people. Food has a way of quietly saying what some people find difficult to put into words.
"I'm happy to see you."
"I hope you're doing okay."
"I saw this and thought of you."
"Stay a little longer."
Growing up, many cultures considered it almost unthinkable to arrive at someone's home empty-handed.
The gift wasn't expected.
It wasn't measured.
It was simply part of participating in one another's lives.
Over time, we seem to have become busier.
More efficient.
We text before we visit.
We grab coffee instead of lingering over dinner.
Forgetting that the smallest offerings often carry the greatest warmth.
A bag of homegrown lemons says "I know you love lemons."
I hope we never lose people who feed people.
They are rarely just bringing food.
They're bringing comfort and care.
More soon.