Recently I picked blueberries at a local farm and almost without realizing it, began to pray. As I picked I breathed in, when the berries hit the bucket, I breathed out. Inhale, exhale: thank you, God, for breath. Breathe in, breathe out: thank you God for the fresh, early-morning air. It seemed to me that all the pickers had this same sense of quiet rhythm. Berries. Bucket. Breath. Thank you God for my fellow pickers who got up early to pick and pray. Bless them and bless all who will be nourished by this fruit from your earth. Bless pickers of fruit and vegetables everywhere, some working under extremely harsh conditions: long hours, hard work, scorching weather, and low pay. Bless the migrant workers, the farmers struggling to keep their farm and people like me, who simply enjoy their hobby because it connects them to the earth, its inhabitants and You, who created it all. Oh yes, and thank you for sweet, beautiful blueberries. Amen.
