Full Circle

"Could you take this to your Dad on your way over there?" my father-in-law asked.  "Sure, what is it?" I replied.  "A baguette pan."  With that, a seemingly benign conversation set into motion what I consider a remarkable turn of events.  Events that have caused me to do a lot of thinking.

My dad seemed pleasantly surprised by his unexpected gift.  While most would consider a baguette pan to be a "white elephant", chucking it aside atop a mountain of useless kitchen items, not my dad.  Scoffing at bread machines and sending gluten-free freaks scurrying, dad is always baking up and perfecting some new and tasty breads.  As if he needed a reason and anxious to test out his new toy, he set to work.  Bread-making is a labor of love that requires artisan-like craftsmanship and time.  But on this visit, the family was in tow and the kids were growing restless and punchy.  As far as they were concerned, we had overstayed our welcome and it was time to go.  Time had run out.  "We better get going," I said.  "But the bread will be ready in ten minutes," my mom said "C'mon, I'll throw it in a bag for you."  Despite all of the screaming and chaos I capitulated, "Okay."

With hot French bread in hand and family loaded up, it was time to head across town to the other grandparents' house.  Tired of highway driving, we opted for the Salem Avenue scenic and slightly downtrodden route.  The old Tasty Bird Poultry Company (now out of business), Pinky's Fried Chicken (formerly a Lou's Broaster Hut and a Rally's, now all out of business), an old Red Lobster (now a fully functional funeral home), and a beggar on the I-75 on-ramp.  "Don't stop, Go!"  my wife urged as we approached the yellow light.  Too late, I had to stop.

It'll be okay I thought to myself.  This guy looked pretty bedraggled; too pathetic to try any funny business.  Just don't make eye contact I again reasoned, then he may want something.  His sign simply read "Hungry+Homeless."  "Should we give him something?" my wife asked.  No way was I giving this guy beer money (it's a shame that we have to think this way), but his sign said nothing about money.  "Give him a loaf of bread" she said.  Pausing for a moment I grabbed one of the loaves, shoved it in a bag, and thrust it out my now open window.  "Dude, my dad just made this, it's still hot," I said handing it to him.  Without missing a beat, he grabs it and stuffs it inside his jacket.  "Merry Christmas" he said stoically.  For the first time I make eye contact with him; he seriously looked as if he would cry.

I felt somewhat skeptical about the guy's situation, but I also felt pretty good about what just transpired.  Our intentions were good and it really made me reflect on the day's events.  What if I forget to bring the baguette pan?  What if I decide not to wait for the bread to be ready?  What if that guy really was hungry and doesn't get the bread?  Our decisions, intentional or otherwise, insignificant or colossal, affect our daily lives, those of others, and our future. It's pretty amazing when you think about it.  So many days and people pass right by and no thought is given to how we impact their destiny, most of the time without even knowing it.

I wonder what became of that loaf of bread.  I wonder what became of that dude?