a MORSEL is like a narrative wrapped in a moment rather than just a little bite. That final piece on the plate everyone eyes but nobody wants to take. It's what remains after the laughter, the actual object that remains after the volume drops off. To someone with nothing, a morsel can mean everything.
a narrative wrapped in a moment rather than just a little bite. That final piece on the plate everyone eyes but nobody wants to take. It's what remains after the laughter, the actual object that remains after the volume drops off. To someone with nothing, a morsel can mean everything. a narrative wrapped in a moment rather than just a little bite. That final piece on the plate everyone eyes but nobody wants to take. It's what remains after the laughter, the actual object that remains after the volume drops off. To someone with nothing, a morsel can mean everything.
a narrative wrapped in a moment rather than just a little bite. That final piece on the plate everyone eyes but nobody wants to take. It's what remains after the laughter, the actual object that remains after the volume drops off. To someone with nothing, a morsel can mean everything.
Consider it. You are seated with your people, plates spread about, glasses nearly empty, music droning in the background. The tray holds the last piece of meat, swimming in sauce, challenging someone to touch it. You all chuckle and act like you're not seeing it. That bit—just that small bit—suddenly transforms the middle of the moment. Not because it represents something. Eating fills anyone up. distribution of information. give up. bond.
Apart from food, Life offers us tiny pieces as well. Love's little pieces—like a note on any ordinary day saying "thinking of you." tiny bits of tranquility—those five minutes of stillness amid turmoil. Little bits of happiness—a sudden burst of giggling that catches you unawares when you were not even trying to grin.
A bite makes one slow down physically. One doesn't hurry a morsel. You thoroughly appreciate it. You feel its edges here. You let it sit or your mouth tells its narrative. A morsel would consume minutes a whole meal. You recall a bite. Particularly if all you had.
People sometimes live on crumbs. From hopes. Regarding truth. Of focus. They get barely enough to sustain but nowhere near enough to flourish. A parent's one compliment is clung to by a youngster. One time someone arrived is recalled by a friend. In a sea of "no's," a dreamer clings to that single "maybe." And in some way, that little fragment sustains them.
But things not always mean deprivation. They are about significance. a few items needn't be everywhere to be potent. One sentence is all that is necessary to change a mind. Only one contact can quiet a storm. One dark whispered prayer can shed light. A morsel has the ability to distill everything into something little but strong.
Possibly, the true beauty is in the pieces but we devote too much time pursuing the whole course. Little things are sometimes overlooked by us in great numbers. Maybe life is a road of morsels carrying us ahead, minute by minute bite by bite.
Thus, the next time someone offers you a morsel of dinner, of grace, of truth, will not dismiss it. Grab it. Sip it. Let it remind you that even the smallest things can carry weight.
