The Story of the Burglar and the Bread

Several years ago I lived next to a woman who was rather eccentric. She lived alone, and had an elaborate web of chains and padlocks rigged from her porch posts to her front door. One day, as I was getting into my car with my daughter, the woman approached us and, unprompted, launched into a story.

“Someone broke into my house,” she said.

My daughter leaned forward, listening intently, and I cringed. She was only 3 years old at the time and I didn’t want her to have nightmares.

She continued. “I know this because I found a loaf of bread on my counter and I don’t eat bread. Someone was inside poking around!”child and bread

After a moment she left, and I looked worriedly at my daughter. Her face was wrinkled in confusion. I started searching for words to comfort her.

“Did you hear that?” she said. “She doesn’t eat bread!”

Ah. To have the mind and ears of a child is to know only wonder and curiosity! While I was focused on the burglar, my daughter was focused on the bread.

Is there a place in your life where you anticipate (and therefore feel) fear? How are you “protecting” yourself against an event that may never occur? Do you go through your day with a welcome mat out, or with your doors padlocked and chained?

What would it feel like to open yourself to a new level of trust, to be fully at home in your heart? You can begin by looking for the bread, even if that means starting with crumbs 🙂