David Baeza, my misfit friend, told the story of what it means to butter your toast. First you put your toast in the toaster at exactly the right toast degree you like. After it’s toasted, you remove it, put it on a plate and you take out your butter knife. Then you put the knife into the butter and place the butter on the toast. Next you butter the toast. You REALLY butter the toast. That means you spread it evenly onto the bread. You spread it all across the bread, out to the very edge. You take your time, and you make sure you have made the best buttered toast ever. Then you do the same thing the next morning. Then you do it again, every day, as long as you are eating toast.
Yes, it’s a story told you so you can look at how you butter the toast at work. Do you have a mission statement? Do you make sure the work you choose to do is part of the mission statement? Are you on time every day? Do you make a plan for each day, and do the work? Do you put your head down, feel the work all the way into your bones, and do the best possible work you can do? Every day, day after day?
Friday night I set up the tables for Sunday Easter breakfast at church. My young great nieces and great nephew helped. We moved all the chairs out to the edges. Then we moved the tables into a cross pattern. We put white tablecloths on the tables, shiny side down. We wiped down the chairs. We placed them around the tables. We folded the chairs we didn’t need and put them neatly into a pile.
Saturday afternoon my mom and I went back to set the table. Placemats first. Dark purple napkins (not lilac, but dark purple) on the left and they were folded with the pattern on top, facing left. Fork on top of the napkin, knife on the right with the edge facing in and the spoon to the left of the knife. Salt and pepper shakers, little baskets with sugar, cream and artificial sugar were placed at every fourth plate. Two cups turned upside down, one for coffee and one for juice. A lilly in the middle of the cross. Each setting was exactly perfect and the chairs were lined up beautifully.
We buttered the toast. it was a work of art. I took a step back and felt proud of the work we did. No one else may have even noticed it. But I did. I noticed. And that is enough.
Butter the toast my friends.