There is an expression of persistent hope there that I suspect you don't grasp until you've struggled with dough that sticks to everything in sight, including your hands. You have to keep going, sure in the knowledge that the dough will come together, that somehow this messy, sticky, mass will find its integrity. Not in gentle handling, but in the pulling and stretching, in the persistent rhythm of turning and folding. The widow's flour is hope....
I'm contemplating what stretches me, what provides a rhythm...
I have found bread making almost mindless in that you knead the dough and keep adding flour until it feels right but it almost never fails because it is substantial. Not so with more delicate baking like pastry where the outcome is quite uncertain (at least for me). There is also a peace and tranquility in the rhythm of making bread. I find peace & tranquility in the rhythm of going deeper in my relationship with God.
ReplyDeleteYes indeed. But I call out the loud cries for hope when making strudel dough.
ReplyDeleteIntegrity is such a wonderful word in this context.
ReplyDeleteYes Margaret, it is.
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