Bread from Heaven


Our stories in scripture are of common people, just like us. During our sermon series, Bread from Heaven, we will read through the ordinary and extraordinary ways bread was central in their lives, perhaps reminding us of the wonder of bread in our lives. We’ve asked you for stories, memories, and perhaps old tales to share.

Bev Kirk

This bread story starts with apple crisp. At Washburne many many years ago I taught Cooking to sixth graders. We first made “toasty cheese yums”. Our second lesson was apple crisp. I might be the only person who remembers there were apple trees out in front of...

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Marilyn Winchester

When I was around six, my family went to visit my great grandmother. She must have been in her 80s. She didn’t see or hear very well but my mother wanted her to show my mother how she made bread. She measured up flour and added ingredients. I think my mother asked...

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Ralph Smith

A story from Ralph Smith about his grandfather: My grandfather, Bishop Randall was well known and loved for many years in the city of Chicago. He not only represented the Episcopal Church but to me he represented all that was holy and sacred. I often attended church when he conducted the service and presided over communion. During those times I learned the importance of breaking bread together and the specialness of doing it with him. Each summer my family and I went to Long Lake in Phelps, Wisconsin. We would spend nearly three months in the woods where we enjoyed boating, playing baseball, eating at the lodge, and reuniting with friends. 

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Bill Davis

A story from Bill Davis about the bread made by his wife Judy: Judy was a wonderful hostess. She loved to entertain small groups for dinner or cocktails and good conversation. But she was probably a better guest. Her housewarming gift any time we were invited to someone¹s home was a loaf of fresh baked bread. She made several types, but the favorites of friend and family were her pumpkin, strawberry, zucchini, and sesame seed breads.

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Diane Bruce

PHA+Jm5ic3A7PC9wPg== My story about bread comes not from memories of a loving grandmother, but rather from my sister who is three years older than I am. Our father died in North Africa in 1946 right after the end of the war leaving my mother widowed with three...

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