That bread will rise...

Not my bag. Not my dough. Very similar though.



'What the goo is that?!'

On Monday, day three, I received a bag.
A bag of what?...
...A bag of goo.

In the lobby of my building, a dear friend gave me this bag, of what we jokingly called, the bag lactated of grossness.

Then I found out, that it is Amish bread.
Amish Cinnamon Rolls to be exact.
Apparently, they are friendship rolls.
Like a circle of friends, never-ending bond of goodness.

Cool. Deal.

Problem.
...I can't bake.

I mean, I bake, but it's usually out of frustration and then I hand out my baked goods as a way to continue to relieve stress and, hopefully, bring some sort of sweetness into their lives. I've never baked just to bake for love. So...this might turn out very badly. Luckily, there are instructions.
I am now on Day five...which is still just mushing the bag two to three times a day.
Tomorrow...tomorrow is the big day. On day six, I am allowed to pour in the flour, the milk, and the sugar...then i put it back away. For the next three days after that, I am allowed to have fun by mushing it again two to three times a day. (There is a lot of manhandling this bread-maybe this will be a stress reliever of sorts). Day 10...Day 10 is the last BIG day. I actually get to bake it. I am able to pour the last of the ingredients in and bake it.

I can't wait to see how THAT turns out.
I can tell you this...I am not keeping it...Oh no sirrrrre. It's going away, far, far, away...Well, I have decided that since this bread was given to me, out of love, I am going to take care of it (much like a high school baby egg project), bake it, put some love into it...and take it to the people who took care of me my whole life.
My mama and my papa.

Comparing myself to this bread-which is something you never really think you'll hear yourself say-I found a lot of amazing things. My parents raised me. They were handed this 'bag of goo' (I know how bizarre that sounds) that would someday be bread-and then, when I was almost ready to be on my own, I was politely shoved, mushed, out of the door to college, where I would continue to grow and have ingredients added to me.

...The thing is...without love-the baking would never happen. The whole process would not even commence without the love. The selfless act of love giving... The love would never really fully grow into the wonderful and sweet cinn-a-mon bread without a community, without that giving, without the sweet abounding effort of love that pours into it with many many many other fruitful ingredients which help it to rise.
Boy. I tell you what-I love food.


Day ten.
Can't wait.