Fresh Bread|نان تازه

“142nd story”


Sally was telling a friend;

That darned day, I was cooking, and the doorbell rang. I opened the door, and there was my father. He bought some fresh bread for me.


He always bought fresh bread for us and, on his way home, dropped it off. My father believed the fresh bread has a better taste. He, all the time, just handed me the bread and left. He never came inside, never. My mother was with him at that time.


When my husband heard their voices, he ran towards the door to say hi, he truly loved my parents.

That day my husband insisted my parents come inside and have dinner with us. I didn’t like my husband’s idea. I was tired, the house was a mess, and I just got back from work.


My parents came inside, and my husband ran to the kitchen to make some coffee for them. I went to the kitchen and whispered to my husband that I am tired, why did you invite them?

My husband said: “Your food smelled delicious. It would be great to share.”

I said: “But I made more food to have leftover for our tomorrow’s lunch.

My father came to the kitchen and said: “What a great smell, that’s my daughter.” Then he cracked a very kind smile.


When we set the dinner table, my father just ate a few spoons, and my mother had a little salad.


They played with the food and mostly talked and complimented my cooking. We had enough leftovers for tomorrow’s lunch after the cleanup. My parents didn’t stay long after dinner and said you guys are tired.

Years flew, and my parents passed away.

And every time I make that same food I cooked that night, I think to myself, what if my father overheard me?! Maybe that was the reason my parents didn’t eat anything and left very soon.


How could I ever be so heartless? Was a little leftover that essential to break my parent’s hearts? This deep pain bothers me all these years. I didn’t care about the most critical part of life. I wasn’t thinking deep. I missed them so much. I never appreciated the fresh bread my father brought to me just to hand in his love.


It wasn’t about the bread. It was an alibi to see me and pass the message of love, and I was too busy and tired to feel it. I was blind. Now that I don’t have them, I realize having them in my life was extraordinary.

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Categories: bedtime story, fable, fiction, folk tale, parable, Short Story, Storytelling, taleTags: , , , , , , ,


  1. That’s a beautiful share. And I’m sure your caring parents were well aware that you were tired, and that you hadn’t had time to cook up some more, and therefore this was your own meal you were sharing. And in picking and toying, they left you enough to eat after they’d gone.

    Liked by 4 people

  2. A very simple and powerful message in that story. Thanks for sharing.

    Liked by 5 people

  3. And every time I make that same food I cooked that night, I think to myself, what if my father overheard me?! Maybe that was the reason my parents didn’t eat anything and left very soon.

    Although your feeling is entirely understandable, I think you should stop beating yourself up over it. Your parents clearly loved you very much and, I feel sure, wouldn’t want you to feel this way.

    Just my tuppence.

    Liked by 4 people

  4. I don’t think her parents overheard her, they knew the dinner was already cooked for just two people, that’s why they were playing with the food. Thank you for sharing this wonderful story.

    Liked by 4 people

  5. Beautiful story with bitter reality. We children remain blind to see the love of our parents unless we become parents…
    May Allah shower His countless blessings upon our parents, Ameen 💖

    Liked by 4 people

  6. Thanks so much for sharing this beautiful message and wonderful reminders. 😊🙏💜

    Liked by 4 people

  7. Bread is life. Memories of parents are usually associated with bread, food and smell.

    Liked by 3 people

  8. A bittersweet tale . . . how often we “realize” later . . . thank you for sharing and providing “food for thought”.

    Liked by 2 people

  9. Such an emotional story. My eyes almost welled up with tears🥺. We must always appreciate every little bit that our parents do for us. We never know how long we have them with us.

    Liked by 2 people

  10. A sad story about a situation that’s all too real for many of us who are adult children or have adult children.

    Liked by 2 people

  11. Ah, what a lovely tale! Regardless of all the differences in the world, there is one thing common in every parent in the world- Selfless love for their children. Isn’t it pure heartwarming love that never asks for anything return, no expectations and no demands? A love which continues to warm us even if we get separated from them by distance and time?
    Loved the story, Laleh!❤

    Liked by 4 people

  12. How agonizing, wondering if the words were overheard. I’ve been there, learning the hard way that some things are better left unsaid.

    Liked by 2 people

  13. bread
    over my head
    stone cold killah
    and her faux husbaaand fang~

    Liked by 2 people

  14. A volte la stanchezza ci rende un po’ brutale proprio con le persone che amiamo.
    Succede anche a me in alcune situazioni ritornare indietro nel tempo e provare nostalgia per un abbraccio che ho lesinato a mia madre.

    Molto bella l emozione che hai trasmesso ❤

    Liked by 2 people

  15. this is a beautiful story Laleh. It is very touching and a bit sad but there is much love there as well.

    Liked by 2 people

  16. This is so beautiful and so poignant. May Allah always protect our parents.

    Liked by 2 people

  17. Reblogged this on By the Mighty Mumford and commented:
    and that is the crust—crux—of the matter! 😀

    Liked by 2 people

  18. Sometimes it’s not about what you have, but what you’re willing to give? Sometimes it’s about what you have, but how much of yourself, you’re truly willing to give. It’s about the moments you have, and the moments you get to have! Happy Mother’s Day, Blessings!

    Liked by 2 people

  19. This is heartbreaking but very real. It happens more times than we care to acknowledge. Once death comes it’s too late. Living with regrets it’s nothing short of self torture.
    Keep safe Laleh♥️

    Liked by 2 people

  20. Beautifully expressed, Laleh. I didn’t appreciate my parents as much as I should have and then they were gone. There are things I wish I had said and things I wish I hadn’t said to them. These things will haunt me the rest of my life.

    Liked by 2 people

  21. A volte siamo troppo presi da noi stessi, dalla vita frenetica, per assaporare il vero amore che abbiamo.
    Dovremmo sempre guardare oltre il nostro egoismo.
    Sempre intense le tue storie. Grazie.

    Liked by 2 people

  22. This story is so beautiful… I can imagine how she feels about her parents

    Liked by 3 people

  23. Lovely! Our parents love us so much but in their lifetime we fail to appreciate their love! Only when they’re gone we realise what they meant to us! Then such instances as you mentioned keep on flashing in our minds. I just hope that I won’t be one of those… and try to be as kind to them as they’re to me!
    Thanks dear, it’s really inspiring!

    Liked by 1 person

  24. Parents show their love on us irrespective of the age. In turn they don’t expect anything. When they are with us, we can’t understand their love.

    Liked by 2 people

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