We sat around a primitive wood table, embraced by the late spring evening. The deck was littered with life, potting soil, herb pots, bird feeders. We held hands and bowed our heads. The aroma of a quiche filled with fresh kale from her garden teased our senses. He prayed a simple prayer of thanks for food, for friendship, for time together.

This tender act is repeated time and time again throughout the world as people gather to break bread and share soulful conversation together. But this time it seemed special. He is stable after a long battle with a blood cancer. He had months of chemo therapy and a stem cell transplant. He struggled with life and death and now feels strong and able to live a full life each day.

I don’t know how often I race by these moments, but this time I paused and felt the spirit of life hold the four of us as we shared the stories of life and family, of hopes and disappointments. And I want to rest in that memory. Thanks for that time, those hands, that food, that evening of awareness and appreciation. These moments in life are precious.