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.