An emotional poem about a prayer, a hidden roti, and the sacred choice to share. Discover the profound joy found in a single, selfless act of giving.
The Tiffin Prayer
My Bread: The Tiffin Prayer It is given to me, it is only for me but. I have a dream to share to my best, I know well, If I keep only I could taste. I could keep it in my bag though, I am urged to stand, but I love it more. Every time I checked, if it’s here, He and I will be happy if I could share. I promise to my mum it is only may tiffin, I can’t wait to share with, when the time begin.!! You know, sometimes an image doesn't just enter your mind; it takes root in your soul. For me, that image was of a little girl. I can still see her so clearly. Standing in her school prayer line, a sea of uniformed children, but she was in her own world. Her head was bowed with a sincerity that only a child possesses, her small hands pressed together. But it was her secret that moved me to my core, the gentle bulge in her pocket. It was a single, precious roti . That image just wouldn't leave me. It was the wellspring for this poem. When I wrote, "I am afraid if I could share it or not," I …
