A little boy was watching his
grandmother, a large woman of 63 years
of age, making cakes. She treated the
boy as her own son.
She kneaded the small pile of dough,
put it in the oven and miraculously,
through the window he saw the dough
inflate until it was ready and cooked.
From time to time, a cake doesn't
rise. It remains flat and dry.
"Mama, why are these cakes like that?"
She smiled, took him in her arms and
looking straight into his eyes, said -
"You see my boy, cakes are like men.
There are those who are successful and
rise up. Others who end up flat and dry
their whole life."
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