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当你恋上制作面包，你会了解那种美妙的感觉。
在制作面包的过程中，似乎那些曾经的伤痛也渐渐地被抚平。
黏黏的面团在手中变得柔软，心也跟着温柔了起来……
I believe in baking hearty, healthy, whole wheat bread, preferably with someone I love, for someone I love.
The first time I made whole wheat bread, I was twenty years old, pregnant and unmarried. My boyfriend and I were trying different things back then, baking bread was part of the process. After growing up on bologna and white bread, we wanted more—more substance to our bread and our lives. We were changing the world and relationships. Who needed marriage? When the father of my child said we were soul mates, I believed him. I even thought that I knew the exact moment we conceived.
Then I told him I was gaining weight for a reason, and he panicked. He pleaded with me to take care of our problem. I was confused. I thought we were soul mates. I thought this was meant to be. But it was a problem for him. He disappeared, and I made bread.
Making bread healed my pain. It felt healthy and honest and pure; whole wheat, not white. It had substance and character. The 1)dough felt sticky at first, like “our problem.” But the more I worked with it, the better it felt. And the better I felt about what had become “my problem.”
Of course, “my problem” was no problem at all. My child was a gift. His flyaway 2)dandelion hair never quite knew which direction to grow in. He taught me to roller skate. And I taught him to ride a bike. And he taught me to play pinball. And I taught him to make bread. I made the big loaf and he made the little one. “Hey, let’s swirl it with cinnamon and sugar, or cheese,” he’d say. And we did. The bread bound us together and filled the emptiness that 3)snuck in when no one was looking.
Bread baking became a tradition with both my children. We would always bake bread when it rained outside or felt like a storm inside our family.
We’ve been busy lately helping my daughter heal from a long illness. Life has been about driving to doctors and classes and working and cleaning and laundry and 4)errands and struggling and searching for balance.
And one day when I panicked about trying to get everything done in a weekend, the bread of my past returned. I opened up the jar of whole wheat flour and once again began to heal. As I 5)kneaded and pushed and shaped that dough, I began to unwind. I prayed silently to heal the person who would receive the bread. The sticky dough became tender inside my hands.
Time began to expand, and the day felt luxuriously long. No more panicking. The baking bread smelled like comfort and safety. I made the big loaf; my daughter made the small one.
I believe in the power of healing, hearty, whole wheat bread made by hand with love.
我喜欢制作又大又健康的全麦面包。如果能和心爱的人一起制作，抑或心爱的人能够品尝一口，那就更好了。
第一次制作全麦面包，我才20岁，未婚却已有身孕。回想那时，男友和我一直在尝试新鲜事物，制作面包便是其中一项。吃腻了博洛尼亚香肠和白面包，我们想换些口味，在面包里加些作料，给生活来点调味剂。我们在改变世界，改变恋爱关系。谁还要结婚？孩子的父亲说我们是灵魂伴侣，我对此深信不疑。我甚至觉得我知道我们的孩子是在什么时侯怀上的。
后来，我告诉他由于某种原因，自己体重在增加。他显得惊慌失措，哀求我处理好我们的问题。我对此感到困惑。我原以为我们是灵魂伴侣，我们是命中注定的，但这件事对他来说是个麻烦。他消失了，而我去制作面包。
制作面包可以抚平我内心的痛楚。它显得那么健康，那么诚实，那么纯洁；我是指全麦面包，并非白面包。全麦面包有自身的特性。一开始，面团很黏，就好像“我们的问题”。我越是用力揉搓，感觉就越舒服，对于后来的“我的问题”也愈发释然。
当然了，“我的问题”根本就不是问题。孩子对我来说是一份美妙的礼物。他的头发又细又软，像蒲公英一样，毛茸茸的甚是可爱。他教我怎么溜旱冰，我教他怎么骑自行车。他教我怎么玩弹球游戏，我教他怎么制作面包。我做大块儿的，他做小块儿的。“嘿，我们一起把桂皮粉，糖和奶酪和进去，”他这么说。我们也就这么做了。面包让我们心心相连，驱走孤独时偷偷溜进我内心的那种空虚。
对我的两个孩子而言，制作面包已经成了家庭传统。每当碰到雨天，或是家里出现不愉快，我们总是会一起做面包。
由于要照顾长期患病的女儿，最近大家都很忙。送她看医生，去上学，再加上自己的工作，拖地，洗衣，杂七杂八的事情，我一直都在和生活抗争，努力寻找一种平衡。
一个周末，我被所有这些事情逼得焦躁万分，又想起了以往做面包的场景。我打开一罐全麦面粉，又开始一次心灵疗伤之旅。一阵揉搓，当面团成形时，我也开始放松下来。我默默祈祷，希望收到这份面包的人也能得到治愈。黏黏的面团在我手心开始变得柔软起来。
时间开始推进，舒心的感觉持续了漫长的一整天。焦虑没了踪影。我从面包的清香中闻到了舒适和安定。我做大块儿的，女儿做小块儿的。
我相信，满怀爱心、手工制作的大块儿全麦面包必能抚平一切创伤。
翻译：Christopher
在制作面包的过程中，似乎那些曾经的伤痛也渐渐地被抚平。
黏黏的面团在手中变得柔软，心也跟着温柔了起来……
I believe in baking hearty, healthy, whole wheat bread, preferably with someone I love, for someone I love.
The first time I made whole wheat bread, I was twenty years old, pregnant and unmarried. My boyfriend and I were trying different things back then, baking bread was part of the process. After growing up on bologna and white bread, we wanted more—more substance to our bread and our lives. We were changing the world and relationships. Who needed marriage? When the father of my child said we were soul mates, I believed him. I even thought that I knew the exact moment we conceived.
Then I told him I was gaining weight for a reason, and he panicked. He pleaded with me to take care of our problem. I was confused. I thought we were soul mates. I thought this was meant to be. But it was a problem for him. He disappeared, and I made bread.
Making bread healed my pain. It felt healthy and honest and pure; whole wheat, not white. It had substance and character. The 1)dough felt sticky at first, like “our problem.” But the more I worked with it, the better it felt. And the better I felt about what had become “my problem.”
Of course, “my problem” was no problem at all. My child was a gift. His flyaway 2)dandelion hair never quite knew which direction to grow in. He taught me to roller skate. And I taught him to ride a bike. And he taught me to play pinball. And I taught him to make bread. I made the big loaf and he made the little one. “Hey, let’s swirl it with cinnamon and sugar, or cheese,” he’d say. And we did. The bread bound us together and filled the emptiness that 3)snuck in when no one was looking.
Bread baking became a tradition with both my children. We would always bake bread when it rained outside or felt like a storm inside our family.
We’ve been busy lately helping my daughter heal from a long illness. Life has been about driving to doctors and classes and working and cleaning and laundry and 4)errands and struggling and searching for balance.
And one day when I panicked about trying to get everything done in a weekend, the bread of my past returned. I opened up the jar of whole wheat flour and once again began to heal. As I 5)kneaded and pushed and shaped that dough, I began to unwind. I prayed silently to heal the person who would receive the bread. The sticky dough became tender inside my hands.
Time began to expand, and the day felt luxuriously long. No more panicking. The baking bread smelled like comfort and safety. I made the big loaf; my daughter made the small one.
I believe in the power of healing, hearty, whole wheat bread made by hand with love.
我喜欢制作又大又健康的全麦面包。如果能和心爱的人一起制作，抑或心爱的人能够品尝一口，那就更好了。
第一次制作全麦面包，我才20岁，未婚却已有身孕。回想那时，男友和我一直在尝试新鲜事物，制作面包便是其中一项。吃腻了博洛尼亚香肠和白面包，我们想换些口味，在面包里加些作料，给生活来点调味剂。我们在改变世界，改变恋爱关系。谁还要结婚？孩子的父亲说我们是灵魂伴侣，我对此深信不疑。我甚至觉得我知道我们的孩子是在什么时侯怀上的。
后来，我告诉他由于某种原因，自己体重在增加。他显得惊慌失措，哀求我处理好我们的问题。我对此感到困惑。我原以为我们是灵魂伴侣，我们是命中注定的，但这件事对他来说是个麻烦。他消失了，而我去制作面包。
制作面包可以抚平我内心的痛楚。它显得那么健康，那么诚实，那么纯洁；我是指全麦面包，并非白面包。全麦面包有自身的特性。一开始，面团很黏，就好像“我们的问题”。我越是用力揉搓，感觉就越舒服，对于后来的“我的问题”也愈发释然。
当然了，“我的问题”根本就不是问题。孩子对我来说是一份美妙的礼物。他的头发又细又软，像蒲公英一样，毛茸茸的甚是可爱。他教我怎么溜旱冰，我教他怎么骑自行车。他教我怎么玩弹球游戏，我教他怎么制作面包。我做大块儿的，他做小块儿的。“嘿，我们一起把桂皮粉，糖和奶酪和进去，”他这么说。我们也就这么做了。面包让我们心心相连，驱走孤独时偷偷溜进我内心的那种空虚。
对我的两个孩子而言，制作面包已经成了家庭传统。每当碰到雨天，或是家里出现不愉快，我们总是会一起做面包。
由于要照顾长期患病的女儿，最近大家都很忙。送她看医生，去上学，再加上自己的工作，拖地，洗衣，杂七杂八的事情，我一直都在和生活抗争，努力寻找一种平衡。
一个周末，我被所有这些事情逼得焦躁万分，又想起了以往做面包的场景。我打开一罐全麦面粉，又开始一次心灵疗伤之旅。一阵揉搓，当面团成形时，我也开始放松下来。我默默祈祷，希望收到这份面包的人也能得到治愈。黏黏的面团在我手心开始变得柔软起来。
时间开始推进，舒心的感觉持续了漫长的一整天。焦虑没了踪影。我从面包的清香中闻到了舒适和安定。我做大块儿的，女儿做小块儿的。
我相信，满怀爱心、手工制作的大块儿全麦面包必能抚平一切创伤。
翻译：Christopher