Dear Beer Gods,
I believe in beer, the beverage almighty, lubricator of tongues and touch. I believe in Saccharomyces cerevisiae, their single cells, our booze-makers. They are fed by the sweetness of the malt extract and nourished by the wort. They thrive in the carboy, produce alcohol, carbon dioxide, and happiness. It ferments in the closet. On the tenth day we shall drink again. Then it is siphoned into bottles, and is capped with sugar to carbonate. On the fourteenth day we will come again to chill the bottles and the keg. I believe in the lager, the ale, the stout, the porter, the heffeweisen, and drink everlasting.
May our beer ferment quickly, producing no off flavors and obtaining no scum of infection. May we not accidentally give ourselves botulism. May the head of our stout be creamy and dense, leaving foam on the pint glass to mark our progress. May it turn out okay even though we put the lactose in late and I kept dropping the wooden spoon holding the thermometer into the brew kettle. May my triceps grow strong from the lifting of kettles full of hot water, and may the ice maker always be full that our wort may chill quickly. And, may there be many more pleasant afternoons of good company and the production of good brew.