Elara, a young baker, flour from her . She watched the head , Monsieur Dubois, a wedding cake. Elara’s heart hammered; she wanted to achieve a similar level of , but her hands always seemed to . Next week was the annual regional baking competition, and she wanted to enter. She knew Monsieur Dubois’s advice would be , although she was anxious about asking. He was , and she feared his anger if she seemed too . She had to ask him, despite her fears.
艾拉拉，一个年轻的面包师学徒，擦去额头上的面粉。 她看着主厨杜瓦先生一丝不苟地装饰着一个婚礼蛋糕。 艾拉拉的心怦怦直跳；她想达到类似的艺术水平，但她的手总是颤抖。 下周是年度地区烘焙比赛，她非常想参加。 她知道杜瓦先生的建议将是无价的，尽管她对提问感到焦虑。 他很严厉，她担心如果自己显得过于自负，会惹他生气。 尽管她很害怕，但她必须问他。
Gathering her courage, Elara walked across the kitchen, past the ovens. "Monsieur Dubois," she began, her voice a little shaky. "I wish to attend the regional competition." The chef paused, a sugar flower held mid-air. He turned, his . Elara herself for a sharp , perhaps even a against competing before the . He often said, “Master the simple before you attempt the grand.” She expected him to announce that such a request was , or to simply not allow her.
艾拉拉鼓起勇气，穿过熙熙攘攘的厨房，走过闪闪发光的烤箱。 “杜瓦先生，”她开始说，声音有点颤抖。 “我希望能参加地区比赛。” 厨师停了下来，一朵精致的糖花悬在半空中。 他转过身，目光锐利。 艾拉拉做好了准备，迎接严厉的拒绝，甚至可能是一番关于在掌握基础之前不要参加比赛的训诫。 他常说：“先掌握简单的，再尝试宏大的。” 她预料他会宣布这样的请求为时过早，或者干脆不允许她。
Instead, a of surprise, then something to , appeared in his eyes. "?" he said, a rare, small smile forming. "You wish to arrange your own entry, then? Very well. I will help you, but you must apologize to yourself for doubting your own ambition." Elara gasped. He wasn't angry; he was proud. She realized then that true wasn't about permission, but about and helping it .
然而，他眼中闪过一丝惊讶，随后是类似骄傲的神情。 “真的吗？”他说，脸上露出了一丝罕见的微笑。 “那么，你想自己安排参赛吗？很好。 我会帮助你，但你必须为怀疑自己的抱负而向自己道歉。” 艾拉拉倒吸了一口气。 他没有生气；他很骄傲。 她那时才明白，真正的指导不是关于允许与否，而是关于识别潜力并帮助它绽放。
