It was a simple bowl of soup. Chicken with rice, from a can. But as I sat down to eat my lunch, a sudden thought flashed through my head: What a miracle this bowl of soup is! A savory, golden broth, bright orange carrot coins, plump grains of rice, bits of chicken. Struck deeply by this realization, I simply sat for a minute watching thin wisps of steam rising from the surface.
Just a bowl of soup. I'd never given much thought to the origins of my food. I simply went to the store, threw produce and cans and boxes into my cart, and brought them home. But I've been thinking a lot lately a…
