Baker

You can't save the world every day, or any day. It's the small miracles that sustain us, fortifying a reason to hope.

The kind shopkeeper pretended not to notice the crop of red curls and bright face peering into his window. Proud baker for decades, he knew well how to keep his head down as he worked, his bakery the public stage for his art. But, how could he not notice her, the curious child, passing with her mom nearly every afternoon. This time, the two lingered, the mom re-checking some groceries in her bag. The little girl was all eyes, looking everywhere, and at the glass cases of baked yummies all in rows, trays full of blissful daydreams, delightfully alluring creations only pure desire could amplify. The baker suddenly stopped- a voice in his head said: make today different. Before he knew it, his arm motioned to the child, come in! At first the rosy-cheeked girl was startled, stepping back, staring at the baker. He motioned again, as she lit up with a grin. Pulling her reluctant mom's arm, they eventually came inside the baker's shop. The kind baker was on a crazy roll now, speaking before thinking, having some fun. "Good afternoon, ladies, you're just lucky today. We have some free samples to try." The little girl couldn't believe her good fortune, as the baker brought up two mini-cream puffs for starters, still warm and texture perfect. The mom beamed with appreciation. 

His long life so blessed with small miracles, why was he even a baker, the kind man thought, if not to make people's day, and his own?