The Sacraments of Fall

We had just finished a three-mile trail walk in the Arboretum woods on a warm day, beautiful in its own way, even though it was already more brown than green. We should have turned the car north for home, but turned south instead, just a few more miles to the cider mill….

I thought of the many years I have made that trek, and as we wove our way through the crowd to get in line, I thought of how years ago we were almost the only ones there. Most of the crowd was there for the Fall experience – the music, the country store. I confess, I was really there for the donut.

I sat down and took my first bite, and actually wondered if I might weep – and wondered what on earth this was all about. The answer that quickly came to me was in the memories that began to play through my head with each bite – our boys – standing on tip toes on old wooden crates, straining to watch through the glass as each donut fell into the fryer. Holding my daughter and then my granddaughter in my arms high enough to see through the window in the mill itself, watching them captivated by the old cast iron press and the cascade of falling apples.

It struck me that it is in these simplest moments – in the lowliest, most basic elements that we eat - that God has asked us to experience him, and see him there with us. I realized that this lowly donut and cup of cider were in their own way, sacraments of the season. A slightly different version of sacred bread and fruit of the harvest. A slightly different way of experiencing appreciation and giving thanks in the everyday things around us. And while it was delicious – I had not been hungry. This was much more about feeding joy. Nurturing my own soul, just a little bit.

Indulging in this moment was a way of acknowledging to myself that it’s OK to be kind to myself – and to allow myself these precious moments. Sometimes I forget that being kind to others starts with being kind to myself – and allowing myself to reflect on the divine in the most ordinary of moments, well outside of church. It refills the well from which we can dig deep and give to those we care about – as well as those we have never met.

Your Fall sacrament might be very different from mine – but, for yourself, don’t let it go by. Refill. Give thanks. Nourish joy. Pass it on.  Be more kind my friends, be more kind.

Heavenly Father, thank you for all the reasons you give us to be more present, to savor the gifts you have given us that are there in our hands each day. Help us to share all the gifts and goodness you have given us, knowing that there is no end to them, as there is no end to the source from which it all comes.

To everything there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven.

– Ecclesiastes 3:1-22

Diana is a founding member of Peace Church, and an avid local trail walker.