“I do not cease giving thanks for you, remembering you in my prayers.” Ephesians 1:16

Every year, as Christmas approaches, I find one of my most memorable lessons happens while singing with the parish choir. Each time the lesson is different, but always unforgettable.

This year, as I looked across to the soprano section during our annual Christmas concert, I was struck by how much I miss my friend, Joan, who would always notice me waving and shoot me back a brilliant smile.

Holidays with Joan were always something special. Her loving, generous spirit could only be outdone by her desire to feed her family, friends and guests. In truth, her bountiful table was an expression of her love, and there was always more than enough to go around. The thought that this Christmas, and this New Year, will not bring me to Joan’s table, is a thought that continues to bring me to tears.

Several years ago, I wrote a small story for a religious formation text that was inspired by Joan, and sadly, I never told her it was dedicated to her.

So today, with Christmas just around the corner, I share it now and know she is listening:

Evelyn had a special gift. She loved to bake bread.

Whenever someone would come to visit, Evelyn would treat her guest to a full pot of hot tea and warm homemade bread with cranberry butter. When the parish had a bake sale, Evelyn would arrive with her arms loaded with freshly baked loaves.

When someone was sick at home, Evelyn would visit, always certain to bring a loaf to serve and a loaf to freeze. For some, this gift might seem inconsequential when compared to the gift of teaching or preaching or healing. But no gift is too small to put at the service of God. The preaching and healing that took place through the expression of love that was Evelyn’s bread would be remembered long past many a homily. It might be said that Evelyn’s bread making was a by-product of her true gift of a generous spirit.

 God has been generous with us, as he was with Evelyn, giving each of us our own unique gifts and talents, expecting that we would share those gifts with others for the purpose of building the Body of Christ. When we are tempted to consider that what we have to offer may not be significant enough to change lives, it’s good to think back to Evelyn’s bread, and the power of a crust of bread shared with love.

This year, as I watch my family open their gifts, I will thank God for the gift of Joan, a gift that will never be relegated to a shelf in a closet because she has been, and will remain, a forever part of my heart, helping to form who I am as a person and a Christian.

Mary Morrell is an award winning writer and columnist who serves as managing editor of The Monitor.