The simple repast was at an end; the birds chirped their thanks and flew away; and the disciple and the Master rose from their rocky seat.
St. Peter, leaning on his staff, set out to resume the journey, but the Lord called him back.
“Our Father in heaven has fed us well, shall we not thank Him as is our wont?”
St. Peter laid aside his staff, and cheerfully knelt down.
“But as He has dealt with particular loving-kindness in the abundance with which He has provided us this day, let us address Him with arms outstretched, in token of the earnestness of our gratitude,” continued the Saviour; and as He spoke He flung His arms wide abroad, as if embracing the whole universe and its Creator, with an expression of ineffable love.
He knelt opposite St. Peter, who was not wont to be slow in following such an exhortation.
“He only suggested it; He didn’t command.” reasoned St. Peter to himself. “I need not do it.”
But a furtive glance he could not repress, met the Master’s eye fixed upon him with its whole wonted affection—there was no resisting the appeal. With the spontaneity of habitual compliance, he raised his arms after the pattern of his Lord; but the loaf, set free by the motion, fell heavily to the ground beneath the Master’s eye.
The Master continued praying, as though He had perceived nothing, but St. Peter’s cheeks were suffused with a glow of shame; and before they proceeded farther he had told Him all.