In culinary school my bread instructor encouraged us to mix the dough with our hands and not to “worry about the mess” when we are baking bread. I like the feel of bringing the dough together with my hand as water and flour are transformed. This moment of transformation caught my attention during Holy Week as I prepared the bread we would eat for Eucharist during the Triduum. I love baking and find that there is something so wonderfully prayerful about baking bread from scratch; I think it is because you are physically immersed in the creative process and therefore somehow personally connected to our Creator, or at least that is how I experience it. This batch of bread I was making for Holy Thursday was special though, not only was it a contemplative activity as bread baking so commonly is for me, it was also a poignant moment as I considered where this bread was heading and how it would feed others. On Thursday I was asked to carry the basket of bread into the chapel, which felt slightly awkward since I do not like to be in the spotlight, but I am glad that I did it because in that moment I not only presented the bread I also brought the gift of who I am as a creation of God to the table. As I saw my bread blessed, and for the second time flour and water were transformed, I wondered how something I put out into the world could come back to me in such a special and intimate way. We are all gifted and that can be so hard to admit for some people; sometimes it seems as if we have been trained to downplay our gifts. On Holy Thursday I realized that if I am not willing to accept and celebrate my giftedness as a child of God than I cannot hope to see others, and in fact all of creation, in this light. Even the flour and water, twice transformed, are God’s own creation and now that creation is transformed once again in all who shared that Eucharistic bread.