Seeds of Faith
by Domingo Jr. Capias
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“Dinner will be served in an hour, honey. So, just hang in there… oh by the way, did you notice how warm it is today?” my loving wife told me and then rushed back to the kitchen.
“That’s because you’re in the kitchen, honey.” I said, rubbing my watery eyes that had been staring at the computer. “Surfing… to be continued,” I thought, jumping off my seat and headed to where my wife was busy cooking.
“Hmm…Is that chicken casserole I can smell?” I asked, salivating. She smiled and nodded.
“I’ll go for a walk,” I said, glancing at the digital wall thermometer that had registered a cold sixteen degrees Celsius.
I stepped out the door but I quickly turned and jumped inside the house. “It was biting cold out there,” I quivered, running into my room for my windbreaker. Warm was always a relative word between me and my wife who never seemed to shiver even in winter.
Outside was still bright. I breathed in the refreshing fragrances of grass and flowers. Huge red and white English roses adorned both sides of the patio down to the wooden gate of our house. The neighborhood lawns were dressed in grassy green and plenty spots of round yellow flowers --- The dandelions.
I began walking down the neighborhood, enjoying the solitude. The flowers and bushes vibrate with the rhythm of the evening. I opened my mouth; breathed out a foggy smoke and watched it vanished quickly in thin air.
Few feet away, I spotted some fuzzy dandelion clocks. I bent down and carefully picked a perfect round clock. I puffed the seeded flower until an empty seed head was left standing between my fingers. I watched the tiny pieces of fluff floated in the air as they drifted away on their parachutes, being carried away by the wandering breeze. Some seeds parachuted nearby. I remembered how I used to win over my siblings in blowing all the seeds with one breath while making silly wishes. I didn’t wish this time because I still had a lot of unfulfilled wishes. I shook my head and chuckled.
The growling in my stomach spurred me to check the time which told me that I’d been walking for twenty five minutes. “Time to run back to the house,” I thought, enduring the chill that had been poking into my cheeks.
I entered the main door, and the flavor of chicken casserole tickled the olfactory receptors of my nose. I walked towards an empty brass vase sitting on a coffee table in the living room, and planted a bunch of dandelions that I had picked up on the way.
I fixed my disheveled brown hair and then walked to the dining room where my wife had just finished setting the table. The red wine sparkled in the two crystal wine glasses seemingly guarding a tray of brown bread. She looked gorgeous in her purple dress, adorned by her favorite pink apron. She was always passionate about her cooking.
After we said grace, she served me a plate of hot and steaming chicken casserole. The yellowish cheese humbly melted on top adding to the temptation. My first bite tasted heavenly. “What trick have you done now? This is yummy.”
My wife brightened up and said, “Well, I fusionized it. I pre-cooked the chicken in butter and garlic salt this time. That’s all.”
“Hmm, I love you,” I said, really impressed. She stabbed her food with her fork and laughed elatedly.
We devoured the food.
The lovely dinner was over. My wife sat in front of the TV, watching her favorite reality show while I bused the dishes from the table and dump them into the sink. As I was washing the dishes, I pondered on dandelions ---they cheerfully greeted every sunbeam of the day and when they seeded out, the wind… or somebody’s breath would blow them far and wide. Once fallen on the ground; they’d get covered by dirt; and then would wait for the kiss of melted snow from above the ground to help them germinate. Their struggle on their way out the ground eventually made them strong and yellow. Then another cycle would begin. “Amazing,” I whispered, wiping the last spoon.
I sat beside my wife, thinking about my journey with the Lord. In every “spring” of my life I wondered what kinds of “seeds” fall off my “seed head.” Were they seeds of faith nourished by the fruit of the Holy Spirit?
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