The unfortunate nature of bread loaves is that they must be baked all around and inevitably have two end pieces.

Few appreciate the end pieces. They’re harder, have less of the good stuff, more crust than class. I know they’re less appreciated, not because of any real research, just firsthand observation that no matter how much of the loaf has been consumed, there are always the two end pieces.

Perhaps the most horrifying moment for the sandwich maker is to be at the bottom of the bread bag with nothing left but the end pieces. All hope for a delicious sandwich is lost; the end pieces will see to that.

It’s not that the end piece is bad, it’s just not as good.

Yet when you’re forced to eat an end piece, you may realize that it made little difference in the quality of your sandwich.

Armed with this wisdom, should we not always take the end piece, if for no other reason the next sandwich maker will likely have a slightly better experience?

Of course, being thoughtful as the “sacrificial” end-piece taker doesn’t really matter in the grand scheme. I doubt this is a good deed the Maker applauds (though perhaps He gives notice).

But if we see all of life as end-piece taking, as thousands of tiny moments to think of another, to not take what’s best, to busy oneself with gracious things that no one ever sees, perhaps we’ll ever so gradually be crafted into a man or woman of blessed life losing, an end-piece-eating being for other beings.

The bonus is we may even enjoy our sandwiches more.