As we sit outside on a pleasant summer morning, a cool breeze caresses our bare arms. The porch glider sways rhythmically in spite of our combined weight. Ripples across the lake come persistently toward shore in a gentle, quiet way. The sun warms the day as it dries the dew glistening on the grass, potted flowers, and cars. The birds make infrequent chatter to one another and the locusts hum consistently on either side of the house. The pale blue sky is dotted with gossamer thin sheets of clouds and a few in piles of white fluff along the border at the horizon. They are still and unmoving in spite of the gentle wind ruffling the leaves of the neighbor’s trees. The locusts’ loud refrain ebbs and flows, much as the water in the lake. The distant sound of boats, autos, and planes remind me of life beyond our quiet, serene cocoon here on the porch. A butterfly flits here and there about the flowers. A blue heron lands on the end of the pier to rest. He stands sedately for a time surveying the dark, moving waters. Then he spreads wide his wings and lifts off into the air to follow other prey. All in all, the sounds of nature on a quiet Tuesday morning can be amazingly loud. In the background is the noise of the television and sporadic conversation of human voices. The boats and pontoons sit unconcernedly on the far side of the lake, drifting slowly along with the current. A flag flies grandly from its pole next door. A speedboat returns to its home dock with its fishermen displaying their catch of the morning—four fine fish.

Mom has wiped down her car with an old towel. The sparkling dew has thoroughly softened any debris lodged on the shiny red surface of the new Buick. In a few minutes, the clean surface reflects the sunlight majestically. Mom is glowing, too, with damp perspiration.

Here on the porch, the green string beans are waiting for attention. We bought them from a retired neighbor’s vegetable stand where he sells the bounty from his garden. Our Monday evening walk had not taken us very far when through the open garage door we spotted his tables of bright red tomatoes and yellow sweet peppers. The fragrance of Indiana muskmelons attracted us, as well. While there we received a bag of small potatoes as a free bonus with our purchases, which included the nice, freshly picked green beans.

We had bought some green beans in town at the grocery store and broken and cooked them earlier in the day. But their appearance was no comparison to these fresh beans. Some were spotted, rusty, or limp. However, hungry as we were for beans, we ate them avidly anyway. They did look better after the cooking and tasted very good. So later, when we saw those homegrown beans, we were irresistibly drawn. Our appetites were whetted since we had seen and tasted of them so recently.

Green beans snap briskly with the expert pressure of experienced fingers. That, of course, is Mom. She has put in many years of practice in harvesting garden vegetables. We have benefited from her labors by consuming fresh, frozen, and canned homegrown produce for decades. She has shared her knowledge with us, too, and we follow in her path of providing such nutrition for our families. Dad is the true gardener, as he loves to grow the plants from seed and coax the plants into producing their fruit. He knows about planting, seasons, fertilizer, weeding and even picking the fruit. But right now, he’s more interested in fishing. And that, too, produces delicious and nutritious food for us.

In the pan are hundreds of pieces of short, green beans. We have expended some effort in reducing those six-inch-long bean pods to edible size. The ends are discarded into a small pile in a plastic bag. Green beans are ready to wash, blanch, and freeze or cook and eat. Only a short time is needed when two people tackle together the pile of beans. Time flies as we chat about current family events. We reminisce over the recent and the distant past. We plan for the future. We discuss hopes and dreams and faith in God. We rejoice in His love and His good plans for our lives.

There is peace in breaking beans. There is accomplishment. There is companionship. Sharing life, sharing tasks, sharing talents and skills—all is present and symbolized by the breaking of beans together. We are sharing our hearts and our lives, getting to know one another in a deeper way than the years have yet permitted. Our appreciation for one another grows. The need for patience and other fruits of the Spirit comes to my mind. We hope to age gracefully and accept the limitations as they come to our physical bodies. Yet we do not give in easily to the decline of our current lifestyles. We regret the investment it takes to maintain optimum health. Sometimes the price seems too high and less than affordable, especially on a fixed income. “And they told about the things that had happened on the road, and how He was known to them in the breaking of the bread” (Luke 24:35, NKJV). Yes, we are still getting to know one another.

“The bread which we break, is it not the communion of the body of Christ?” (1 Cor. 10:16). Breaking bread is fellowship and communion. Breaking beans, working together, is fellowship and communion. And we eat the fruit of that labor. How delicious those beans were with ham and potatoes and well seasoned with salt. Our lives as Christians are tasteful and attractive as we are broken for God, combined with the fruits of the Spirit, and seasoned with salt. Others can taste of our lives and see that the Lord is good. We taste of the good the Lord gives and we want more of Him. We give of ourselves to others in intangible ways.

Breaking beans with Mom, what a privilege, what a fellowship! Whether in idyllic surroundings or a less pleasant environment, breaking beans is like breaking bread—pure and simple, good and precious. “So continuing daily with one accord in the temple, and breaking bread from house to house, they ate their food with gladness and simplicity of heart, praising God and having favor with all the people. And the Lord added to the church daily those who were being saved” (Acts 2:46-47). We have eaten from lives full of goodness and received gladness. We are not fancy people, but plain and simple. Our lives reflect our praise for God, and He is adding to our redeemed numbers from within our family. He is drawing other hearts to Himself. Our fellowship centers on the daily activities of our lives: breaking bread, breaking beans.

“A short narrative.…I find it better than most, partly because of its fuller development.…Also the only entry with a spiritual note.” —the judge