People in cities don't understand this connection to simple work anymore. Everything is rushed, bought from stores, microwaved in minutes. But there's holiness in slow, deliberate creation. The yeast needs time to rise. The dough needs to rest. You cannot hurry these things, just like you cannot hurry a garden or a prayer or real transformation in a soul.

When I roll out dough at 5am, I pray for my family. Each motion is a meditation. The warmth of the oven is like God's presence - constant, life-giving, essential 🔥 My mother taught me that a woman who can make bread will never feel useless. Not because bread is so important, but because the discipline, the patience, the care required - these qualities carry into everything else.

Modern girls laugh at traditions like this. They think it's oppression or old-fashioned nonsense. But I've noticed something: they're always searching, always restless, always buying things trying to fill some emptiness 🌾 While I have peace in my hands covered in flour, creating something real and nourishing.

The world says I should want more than this. Career, travel, excitement. But why?