We are home from nearly three weeks of meandering through Southern Spain (glorious!). As we step back into our lives at home, we face again the realities of our responsibilities. Some of them we want to turn away from—the leak from the washing machine, the mountains of email. And some of them draw us forward. I’m happy to water the garden, to try the new chicken and rice recipe, to refill the bird feeder. As I got ready to do the latter, I came across this small poem. It reminds me again that while the domestic life may lack sweeping landscapes, it is also where we often find the holy.
he jumped into her hand
began to eat
she smiled
