I love Birthday Cakes. I love them if they are home-made or store-bought. I love them when the Birthday Cake is an apple pie or a donut. Whether they are covered in icing or shaped like a loaf of bread smeared with cream cheese.
It needn’t be served on the actually day of one’s birth, but it must be sometime within two weeks before or after. There could be as many as ten or twenty people sharing it, or just one other singing to the recipient of the Cake.
My only steadfast requirement is that there must be a candle stuck in the Birthday Cake for one to blow out. If you don’t have a candle you can’t make your official first wish. The second wish comes with the cutting of the first slice. Wishes made on your Birthday go straight up to Heaven. So make it a good one.
I love Birthday Cakes that are decorated with pink or blue whipped cream flowers, strawberry or peach filling, and has the first name scripted across the top. I love Birthday Cakes that are lopsided and baked with the help of a child.
I guess you get the idea.
Birthday Cakes represent, to me, that someone cares. They wish to celebrate your time on this earth. They seem to say, by virtue of the Cake, I am happy to know you and want to help you get a wish today. I want to be close to you and sing to you dear one.
It’s those wonderful twenty-four hours of the year that everyone, even strangers, will shake your hand or kiss you in congratulations. You’ve managed to live another year.
I saw a loved one blow out the candle on his Birthday Cake the other day. I don’t know what he wished for, but I know it was just the perfect wish. He was surrounded by his children and grandchildren. He’d spoken to his other child earlier in the day who sent love from afar from the Delaware branch of children and grandchildren.
It was the oddest thing. After he blew out the candle on his Birthday Cake the room seemed all the brighter. It was the glow of happiness on his face.
Birthday Cakes are a wonderful thing.