One made bread pudding.
Another, croutons for soup.
One mashed them in milk
for the tomorrow baby’s
breakfast. The important
thing was, they got to
keep the crumbs; no more
maggots in the manna;
they got to bring it home,
swapping hunger for
sufficiency, sharing
recipes for remainders;
their very bodies would
remember. He was
all about that.
And all ate and were filled; and they took up what was left over of the broken pieces, twelve baskets full.