I Didn't Pray For These Baguettes Novels & Stories

Even I knew that they wanted me to start the prayer. But I did not know how to start it. Since before, I only closed my eyes and copied the words from the sisters, thus, doing it now seemed a little difficult. Okay fine, a lot difficut. I was searching for the heavenly words to say, but it was too much for my thinking. It gave us a long deafening silent, while everyone was already bowed and had their hands together. "We thank the saints for giving us food on our table to enjoy now for our thanksgiving..." I stopped hearing the words, and just watched him invoke to the saints.

Gabriella started praying, “Father in the name of Jesus. Thank you for the delicious dinner we are about to eat, prepared with so much care. Father, it is a sin for a man and a woman to stay together outside of wedlock. Wasn’t the purpose of the prayer to bless the food? I gazed at Gabriella with one eye open. While Xavier and I stared at her, her eyes were closed. Xavier did nothing but close his eyes and shrunk his shoulders. I followed suit, shutting my eyes. Then I heard her say something.

“What do I do?” At the front of the church in the altar, Father Cresson put the paper into a silver bowl. His clear voice, speaking in tongues Jake didn’t understand, filled the church rafters and reverberated from the walls in such an eerie fashion, Jake had goosebumps. As he brought the sing-song prayer to an end, Jake felt a rumble. From the ground or from the church itself was unclear. Father Cresson lit incense in a tiny metal holder attached to a chain and began swinging it around until a choking cloud filled the room.

"Our Father in heaven, hallowed be thy name, thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our sins, just as we forgive those who trespass against us. And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from the evil one. For yours is the kingdom and the power and the glory forever and ever. Amen." I cried and opened my eyes. How surprised I was when I found a cup of water in front of me that came from nowhere. I looked around, afraid that Walter or the devil had put him here. But there's no one. I take the cup and looked closely. The water is very clear and slightly fragrant like holy water. Maybe this is a blessing from my praye

said Terry holding the tong ready to pick one of the fish. “Ah. Ah! Not yet. Blessings first,” said the father, and everyone bows their heads, “Shall we pray. We thank you, God, for this blessed morning. Thank you for this bounty here on our front. We acknowledge that You are the source of our needs. May You bless this food and give us strength as we continue doing our work this day. May You protect my daughter and Ally on their trip this afternoon. May you give Ally the strength and courage to overcome all her trials and problems. All these things I ask in Your name. Amen.

Another battle with code. Her hair was a mess. Her eyes burned. But when her app finally compiled successfully, her heart fluttered. “It works…” she whispered to herself, smiling softly. Then, quieter: “Thank You, God. Please… let this be the start of something.” Her faith was faint, almost fragile—a whisper she wanted to believe but rarely had time to nurture. Across the hall, Amara Burnett lay sprawled in her silk sheets, her phone buzzing nonstop. BOARD REMINDER: Presentation at 3:00 PM. Please have your projections finalized.

he added. I blinked hard, and the street doubled for a moment. The red at the corner of my vision wasn’t a warning light, it was the prickle of tears I would not let fall with their eyes on me. I cleared my throat. “All right,” I said, softer. “We’ll pick up bread first, then go home.” “Can we get the sweet kind?” Elijah asked, his childish wants revealing themselves. “Half sweet, half plain,” I bargained. “We can share,” Caleb said, and just like that, the world went back to ordinary.

"I had a bakery." His eyebrows went up. Like he was surprised. But he wasn't. "Really? What kind of bakery?" "French pastries." He smiled bigger. "Did you make croissants?" That word hit me hard. Right in the chest. Croissants. His favorite thing in the whole world. Every Sunday morning, I made him croissants. Fresh ones. Warm ones. The last Sunday before I caught him with Sophie. Before everything ended. He remembered. Of course he remembered.

There was already a line, and Liam joined the end of the queue, playing with Jovie while they awaited their turn. Jovie clung onto Liam's leg, watching in awe as the pastry chefs kneaded dough in the store window, with rows and rows of fresh, fluffy bagels laid out for display. She gulped, staring at the bagels, then exclaimed, "Dad! It smells so good! I'm going to have so many of these!" Before Liam could even reply, however, a scuffle rang out from behind them, which was followed closely behind by people's cries of outrage.

“You brought them all the way here.” Lucas watches me closely, not with worry, just attention. He sits across from me now, resting his forearms on his knees, waiting. He always waits when something matters to me. “God,” I whisper, already reaching for one of the bagel sandwiches. “I was craving these. The way Sophia makes them. I swear no one else gets it right.”