The Blessing to be a Birthday Cake
“I wish you a blessed year ahead. I hope you will allow the birthday cake to inspire your life . . .” she said sincerely.
“What?!” they almost wondered aloud.
She continued, ” The birthday cake is so beautiful on the outside covered in icing and colourful designs. I wish you beauty and a charming personality, that others may appreciate you.
“Deeper inside, the cake is soft and sweet, delighting those who savour it. I hope your charm reflects the tenderness inside you and the sweetness that would delight those who come to know you deeper.
“The base holds the cake steady beneath, so that the mass of all its goodness does not weigh down and deform it. I hope you, with all that beauty, great potential, talents and abilities, will always stand on the grace of God that sustains you, so that life may not wear you down.” She paused and smiled at everyone.
With her eyes gleaming, she continued: “The silky batter suffers great heat to metamorphose into the tasty delicacy that the cake is. Its texture, colour and consistency changes – all for the better. You are hand made by God, mixed with all the right ingredients into a perfect batter. I pray that the heat of life’s trials will change who you are for the better; that others may be delighted by who you have become. Remember, without the heat, you are merely batter.
“Don’t forget the candles. Those wax sticks with flickering flames are thrust into the bosom of a birthday cake. They dare to shine a tiny light amidst a host of more powerful lights in the room. Remaining entrenched in the tenderness of the cake, they gleam till they are blown out. My hope is that you will be a host to the beacon of light, of truth and love that the good God lit. No matter that the world may put it out in a short while. Shine the light of love, of life and of truth, till your last breath.
“And, finally . . . The ultimate purpose of the cake is to be savoured, as a symbol of celebration. As the candles are blown, a knife finds its way through it. Pieced and shared with all who have gathered around, the joy of an awaiting new year is celebrated. I wish you the pain and privilege of a life shared . . . sharing all that you are meant to be to others . . . so that they may realise their purpose too . . . of being there, to be shared.
“May your new year be blessed to be like a birthday cake!”
Saying this, she sat down. There was an awkward silence in the birthday party, as her words sunk in.
“Happy birthday to you…” someone began, in a broken voice, and the rest of the gathering scrambled to join in the chorus, as the knife began to find its way through the birthday cake.