I’ve taught my grandchildren to bake before they could even reach the counter by them just pulling up a stool, donning an apron, and going at it! I do have a method to this madness though. First, we take out all the ingredients, talk about the job of each component, measure carefully, and step by step follow the recipe. On this Valentine’s Day, the recipe is tea cakes, or old-fashioned sugar cookies passed down from my husband’s paternal grandmother.

We mix up the dough, cover, and chill.  While it’s in the refrigerator, we painstakingly and with great aplomb select sprinkles, dusting sugar, colored icing, and any other edible decorations we can think of.

I have a secret for teaching how to roll out dough for little hands. I stand behind my grand-daughter with my arms caped around her shoulders. She places her little hands lightly on the top of my hands which are firmly grasping the rolling pin. As I tell the story of cookie making in her ears, she feels and hears the “how to,” all the while our fingers are interlaced, working as one. Her hands covering mine, she senses the exact pressure needed to roll the cookie dough out. We continue this technique of oneness so she can intuitively know the just so pressure needed to cut out the desired heart shapes.

Next is the magic step of peeking through the oven door, watching her handiwork turn golden. But the best part is making a mess decorating the hearts and serving Paw Paw her creations. She is filled with the joy of giving away what she so proudly made.

Just think if we would be that trusting when our heavenly father tries to gently take us through a learning experience. How many times do we snatch our hands away and impatiently exclaim, “I can do it myself!”

Do we hear His gentle instructions in our ears? Do we follow the directions we intuitively know through His touch?