Hi all! This is post was written by my wonderful cousin Kristina. I loved her perspective and style. She really hits her point home using storybook-type analogy. A great reminder, especially to singles, during the Christmas season. Enjoy!
Not as long ago as you would think, in a quaint village with cobblestone streets stood a bakery. Light from within glowed from the kitchen, filled with warmth from all the baking done earlier in the day.
Clanks and clinks echoed from within the bakery mingling with faint humming as the baker went about preparing to make his sugar cookie recipe. He assembled the ingredients, readied the oven, prepared his tools, and in they went; butter, sugar, eggs, vanilla—all in the mixing bowl, stirred together by the strong, skilled hands of the Master Baker. Once combined, the baker placed the dough onto a floured, thick wooden countertop to be rolled out. Gently flattening the mass of dough with his hands, he proceeded to dust his rolling pin with flour. Then he rolled—pushing and pressing, pulling and stretching—until the dough, while of no recognizable shape, became smooth and even, ready to be cut.
Setting his rolling pin aside, the Master Baker reached for his bucket of hand-made cookie cutters. The metal clinked as he moved the bucket to the countertop. Now the Master Baker was never one to use a cookie cutter twice in one batch of sugar cookies and never decorated two cookies the same. Each one of his cookies was one of a kind.
And so the cookie cutting began. He carefully positioned the cutters of all different shapes and sizes then pressed to make the cut. Removing all the dough that was not cookie he set aside and moved the newly cut shapes onto a cookie sheet and into the oven. While the first batch baked, he continued to cut out cookies placing them on cookie sheets. The first batch having fully baked, the Master Baker moved the cookies from the oven to the cooling rack, replacing the first batch with the second in the oven, then returning to cookie cutting.
While working he heard a small, quiet voice.
“Why am I not fully baked yet?” came the voice.
The baker looked to see one of his sugar cookies longingly gazing over to the cooling rack.
“Why, it’s not time for you yet,” calmly answered the baker with a grin.
“But those cookies look so much better. They’re perfect inside and out, and I’m . . . squishy,” the cookie responded with embarrassment and shame.
With a warm smile and chuckle the baker answered, “I have a very specific plan and design for each of my cookies. No two of my cookies can be compared, for each has a different design. Each in a unique, unrepeatable way shows my skills and abilities. For why are cookies made but to glorify their baker?
The cookie turned her gaze back to the Master Baker to see a loving smile, and contentedly smiled back laying down on the cookie sheet.
Seeing the cookies were done, the baker removed the second batch from the oven to the cooling racks and moved the third batch to the oven. The sugar cookie was excited for the changes of scenery, though the heat became oppressive.
The Baker going about preparing the cookies for decorations heard the same small voice crying out from the oven. Pausing his work he went over and listened.
“I’m here. I’m listening,” answered the Baker bending down.
“Please make it stop! It’s too much,” cried the sugar cookie.
“I understand it’s hard, but it will only last a little while longer.”
“But I want it to stop now!”
“But if I stop it, you won’t be able to become better.”
“How could this possibly make me better?! It’s so oppressive.”
“That’s left up to you, you can be better or you can be bitter, but you need to trust my plan for you that this is not wasted or that I will leave you in longer or take you out sooner than you need to be. This is all a part of making you the cookie I want you to be.”
The sugar cookie reluctantly calmed down, and though uncomfortable rested comfortably in the baker’s plan.
The baker seeing it was time for the last batch of sugar cookies to come out of the oven, slid the cookies out and walked them over to the cooling racks where they were carefully placed.
He continued his work on icing and decorating the first batch of sugar cookies. One by one with steady hands and great detail, the Master Baker iced and decorated. Finishing up the last few of the final batch, he heard a familiar little voice just off to the side of him. Smiling, he turned his head in acknowledgement.
“Those other cookies are so beautiful with their colorful designs and glossy icing that perfectly forms their perfect shape. While my icing is all runny and it makes my shape look worse. I’m just one big mistake.”
“I have a very specific plan and design for each of my cookies. You are no mistake. No two of my cookies can be compared, for each has a different design. Each in a unique, unrepeatable way shows my skills and abilities. For why are cookies made but to glorify their baker? And as for the runny icing you need only to be patient so it can set up, but I am able to fix what has gotten out of place if you’ll let me.”
The Master Baker drawing on his extensive knowledge and wisdom, with steady hands cleaned up the edges where the icing had run.
Finishing the decorations and clearing the counters, the Master Baker gathered together bags and ribbon for the cookies to be packaged in. Two by two he placed the sugar cookies in a bag and tied a bow around the tops. After completing a basketful of cookie packages, and starting on his next, he got a glimpse of his sugar cookie gazing off toward the baskets.
“Is something the matter?” asked the Baker as he set down his work.
“They look so complete. I feel like only half a cookie,”
Turning his head in disagreement, “Ah, that cannot be, because I distinctly made you whole.
For it is not another cookie that gives a cookie its worth, but the Baker. And it is not another cookie that makes a cookie, but the Baker.
“I have a very specific plan and design for each of my cookies. No two of my cookies can be compared, for each has a different design. Each in a unique, unrepeatable way shows my skills and abilities. For why are cookies made but to glorify their baker?