Welcome to The Ordinary Things – The Bread Box Stories….
Every home is filled with objects we pass each day without giving them a second thought. A bread box. A coffee pot. A front porch. A toolbox. A cast-iron skillet. They seem ordinary enough.
Yet each carries a story—sometimes a memory, sometimes a lesson, and sometimes a quiet reflection of the world we live in today.
These stories are written as metaphors. They are not meant to tell readers what to think, but to invite them to think for themselves. If an old bread box can remind us of something we’ve forgotten, or a rocking chair can help us see life from another perspective, then perhaps ordinary things aren’t so ordinary after all.
As you read through this collection, I invite you to look around your own home. You may discover that the quietest things have been telling stories all along.
Lessons don’t come from history books, newspapers, or speeches. Sometimes they sit quietly on a kitchen counter, hang in a garage, or rock gently on a front porch. This is a collection of stories about ordinary objects and the extraordinary truths they quietly reveal.
Look around your home. Every ordinary thing has a story. Sometimes, it’s really about us.
It sat quietly on the counter. No flashing lights. No digital display. It never argued with anyone. It simply had one responsibility—to protect what would feed the family tomorrow.
The bread box never baked the bread.
It never claimed credit for the farmer who grew the wheat or the baker who rose before daylight. It simply understood that once something valuable arrived, someone had to take care of it.
Look around your home. Every ordinary thing has a story. Sometimes, it’s really about us.
No one ever argued over where I belonged. I simply sat on the kitchen counter, close enough that someone could reach inside without thinking. It wasn’t a place of honor. It wasn’t a place of importance. But from where I rested, I saw nearly everything.
Look around your home. Every ordinary thing has a story. Sometimes, it’s really about us.
It had been there a few days. The crust was a little firmer now. The corners had begun to lose their softness. Years ago, someone might have called it stale. Continue reading….
The old bread box has heard thousands of conversations.
Some were whispered.
The old bread box isn’t pretending the past was perfect.
It remembers hurt feelings.
It remembers stubbornness.
It remembers doors closing a little harder than necessary.
