My mother was friends with a lady who worked hard. Because she worked so hard, this lady really enjoyed her food - especially if someone else cooked it!
She liked nothing more than to go down to the old deli on Main Street and order a big bowl of borscht or goulash soup, which always came with two slices of fresh brown bread.
There's nothing like fresh bread and butter.
But one day, my mother told me, the lady was particularly hungry and she asked the waiter for extra bread to go with her creamy mushroom soup.
The waiter sighed and brought her two extra slices.
Well, she thought, four slices of bread was much better than two!
But the next time, the lady was even hungrier. According to my mother, when the waiter smugly set down four slices of bread next to her lentil soup she asked for more. And the waiter rolled his eyes and brought her two slices more.
So you know what happened - the next time, the waiter brought her six slices, and still the lady asked for more!
Eight slices of bread, my mother said, and this hard-working lady buttered them all and ate every crumb, while the waiter shook his head and muttered to himself.
Clam chowder was on the menu the next time mom's friend went to her favourite deli. And before she had even settled herself into her usual booth, the waiter saw her. He went into the kitchen and he took a whole loaf of warm brown bread off the shelf and he sliced it in half and brought the whole thing to the lady diner. He put it right there on the table, next to her soup bowl. And he smirked a self-satisfied smirk.
And do you know what she said?
Mom claims that she looked at that split loaf of bread and proclaimed, "So, we're back to two slices again."
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God Loves Stories
Short Story{Short story anthology} I've gone too far into the woods to find my way out easily. So I pass these stories on to you, and remember them myself, because they might contain answers. Perhaps together we can find them ...
