Our fleshpots are the pleasures we have left behind.

A month and a half after the Israelites had broken away from Egypt, they been complaining, saying they had been better off as slaves, grabbing their meals from the caldrons of food their Egyptian master has given them for grabbing hands full  of food.

As seminarians were forced to study endlessly, not allowed to chat or to watch tele vision. In recalling the free ways we left behind, we used to joke abut missing the fleshpots of Egypt.

Even today dwellers in the Sinai desert gather what the call manna. It is a white substance from tamarask plants. And those people pick up the quail that are exhausted from flying across the Mediterranean.

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