That bread made of golden wheat, seeds that once danced in a farmer's field, graced the plate and brought a pretty aroma to the air.
Lunch as always was a humble offering, yet it was enjoyed each day as much as any banquet upon a king's table.
Show me the hands that bring this lunch, from the seed to the table, for every job in between, and I will show you the hands of rock stars.
The lunch of seasoned vegetables brought a tangible inner smile.
Eating lunch was her moment of the day to take care of herself, to give her body the quality nutrition it needed to keep on taking such good care of others.
The lunch, that magic that comes of soil, seed, rain and sun, sat on the plate as if a wand had just been waved.
Lunch sailed in on a plate over Dina's head as if her father's hands were pure magic.
"Fish for lunch? As if! That's the most polluted garbage on the planet, you might as well put shit in your mouth and chew."