NO COVERED DISHES
The kids have run off to play.
Chairs have been pushed at odd angels.
The silverware lies haphazardly on
our plates and my wife and I look
at one another contentedly.
With a satisfying grin on our faces
we remark, "That sure was a delicious supper."
As we thought about our meal, we realized
that the butter could not say to the homemade
bread, "I have no need of you."
And our side dish of apple sauce could not
boast of its taste above that of the side dish
of coleslaw.
And while the ice-cream was the favorite of
the younger set, it did not vaunt itself above
the pot-roast.
Each dish contributed equally, distinctively, and
uniquely to the overall superbness of the meal.
One other thought did strike us, though...
On God's table, there are no covered dishes.
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