NewFriendship Cake

Grandma Helen: Her Friendship Cake

Rest Peacefully, Grandma Helen (1/18/25)

Grandma Helen was the epitome of classy and fancy, the kind of woman whose joy radiated through everything she touched—including her Friendship Cake. The first time I ever heard of such a cake was through her: a 30-day labor of love, where the secret ingredient wasn’t just fruit but the leftover juices shared between friends.

Why is it called a Friendship Cake?

The answer is as sweet as the cake itself. A Friendship Cake starts with a “starter”—a portion of juices saved from a previous cake—that’s shared with someone else to begin their own. This simple act of sharing connects people, much like an edible chain of kindness. In a way, it’s like the fruitcake’s quirky cousin, equally loved (or sometimes hated, let’s be honest). Grandma Helen found so much joy in the process, her eyes sparkling as she talked about it, a laugh escaping as she joked about passing the “juice” around.

But beyond its ingredients, the Friendship Cake holds a deeper message that resonates with life today.

The Modern-Day Cake

If I could reinterpret Grandma Helen’s Friendship Cake, I’d call it The Today Cake. Why? Because much like the 30-day process of baking this cake, every day is an opportunity to savor peace and joy. Each day in the cake’s preparation requires careful attention—mixing, stirring, and tending to the fruit. It’s a reminder to tend to ourselves daily, to nurture our own peace and joy.

What stands out is that the real sharing doesn’t happen until day 31. Only after dedicating those 30 days to the process can someone else finally taste the fruit of your labor. But here’s the beauty of it: during those 30 days, the baker (you!) gets to enjoy the aroma of sweetness filling the air and the quiet satisfaction of nurturing something beautiful.

A Lesson from Grandma

As I reflect on Grandma Helen’s joy in the process, I’m reminded of the peace she carried. She didn’t rush. She wasn’t after shortcuts. For her, it wasn’t just about the end result—it was about embracing the journey. And that’s the legacy she left behind: the reminder to cherish the small, daily acts of care and love that build something lasting.

So today, I choose to carry forward her spirit. I choose peace and joy. I choose to continue to pour into myself with the hope that the sweet-smelling aroma of my life will someday be shared with others. Just as Grandma Helen’s cakes brought joy to those around her, I will continue: 'fruit of my KPP -  (kindness.patience.peace)

Grandma Helen-May you rest peacefully, forever classy and fancy, in the sweetest aroma of love.

'Smiles R Contagious' by #Learnedman