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Once upon a cold winter's evening, in a small bakery that sat in the middle of a tiny village, was just about to close for the day. The baker stood behind his wooden counter, glancing at the unsold sweet treats that dressed the cream plastic trays. A frown sat upon her lips as she realised how slow the trade had been today. She moved out from behind the counter and walked over to the front of the store. She was about to turn the sign from open to close, when her hazel orbs fell upon the scenery outside the glass panes.
Soft snow had covered every inch of the street, white fluffy blankets were piled on top of every surface. Colourful lights were hung from street lights and tied to various shop windows down the market strip. How wonderfully festive the village looks, the baker thought to herself, peering out of the small panes of glass in her door. She had not even considered the season, not since the passing of her late husband, he had always taken care of the store decorations depending on the season. She could never match his creativity. She sighed once more, her chilly breath fogging up the glass as she flipped the sign over, marking the store closed for the day. She drew her hazel gaze away from the festive street.
Perhaps, she thought to herself as she walked over to the large fishbowl window, if I made the bakery a little more colourful for the holiday season, maybe my sales would improve.
She took hold of the thin string ties, pulling them down towards her chest. Paper-thin floral blinds quickly crashed down over the glass pane, hiding the shop away from the street. The baker felt more at ease now she had something to hide behind. She moved to the back of the store, disappearing behind the wooden counter to fetch her small black clipboard to write down the leftover stock for the day.
The baker sighed as she bent down to take a closer look at the sweet treats that were still sat on the plastic trays, she counted at least a dozen cakes that had been left unsold and marked them on her list. She moved to the shelves behind her to count the loaves of bread. Everything in the bakery was made fresh by hand every morning, but with this many items left unsold it was a wonder how long she could stay open.
She threw her clipboard back under the counter and produced a white cake box from one of the shelves. She picked up a set of silver tongs and quickly placed the unsold sweet treats inside. She had recently learnt of a small shelter on the outskirts of town that desperately needed donations around the winter months, and she had made the decision to gift any unsold produce to those in need. The baker produced a brown paper bag from the end of the counter and gathered up both the cakes and bread loaves ready to take to the shelter.
She removed her floral apron from her waist and left it scrunched up on the back work surface. The baker moved to the back room through a long curtain of metal rings to retrieve her thick coat and small satchel. She quickly dressed in the warm jacket, throwing the leather bag strap over her head before pulling a knitted beanie from her pocket and dumped it on top of her auburn curls. She picked up the brown paper bag and headed for the door.
Outside, the baker was greeted with a cold icy breeze. She clutched onto the paper bag tightly as she quickly locked the front door of her business. She took a deep breath, the day is almost over, she reminded herself mentally as she returned her set of keys to the leather satchel. The baker walked briskly down the market street to make her way to the shelter, but her hazel eyes were enticed to the colourful decorations dancing for her attention. A small smile appeared on her lips, her eyes began to sparkle, mimicking the twinkling fairy lights. How she wished her husband could be here with her now. He always loved walking down the market street every year to take in the beautiful festive sights.
The baker continued until she reached the corner of the street, a small building stood half draped with scraps of fabric. Old bed sheets and blankets that had been donated to the shelter over the years, all beginning to showcase their age. She moved to the front of the building, finding an open door greeting her, without hesitation she stepped into a large room. Rows and rows of tables with small plastic sheets attached to them were lined up parallel to one another. People from all walks of life were hunched over their bowls with a roll of bread in one hand and a spoon in the other.
She realised in this moment how the items in her arms were going to make a positive impact on these people's lives. Small crystal tears begun to cluster in the corners of her hazel orbs. She moved quickly towards the back of the hall and entered the kitchen through the double doors and was greeted with a waft of warm steam close to her face.
"Sorry," a male voice called out from behind the fog. A hand appeared waving the steam away from her face, "Oh it's you, Rose," he said with a smile. He was tall with dark hair and chocolate eyes.
The auburn-haired woman returned his friendly greeting, holding out her arms with the brown paper bag in her hands, "For the folks in need," she replied, placing the sweet treats and loaves of bread on the marble work surface.
"Another donation?" he asked, his brown orbs peering inside the bag, "Thank you. You know having the occasional treat to give them is always a nice surprise." Another man appeared at his side and took the saucepan from his hand, "Thanks Tally," he said quickly to his colleague before turning back to his guest, "Care for a cup?" he asked, gesturing to the soup.
Rose held up a hand and shook her head, "I just came to drop these," she replied, turning to leave the kitchen, "I really need to get back."
The cook nodded, "I understand, another time perhaps?" he asked casually. The baker nodded in reply before leaving the kitchen and shelter the way she entered.
She was shortly back in the market street, her hands dove into her coat pockets to warm as she took a deep breath of the chilly air before taking a short walk out of town until she reached her tiny cul-de-sac. Rose made her way to the front door of her small house, the same one she had shared with her husband not so long ago. She removed her keys from her jacket pocket and quickly unlocked the door. Almost instantly she was greeted with a sudden rush of warmth from her radiator in the hallway.
The auburn-haired woman disrobed, placing her jacket on the silver coat hooks next to the door and made her way into the kitchen opposite. She flicked the kettle on as soon as she walked in, instinct telling her she would need a cup of tea. Once made, she sat herself at the desk she kept in the dining room for the bakery business. Piles of unopened letters had dressed half the wooden table, she presumed were all bills she was not ready to face yet.
With her head in her hands, she allowed herself to cry. Three years had it been since her partner was taken from her. Three Christmas she had spent cold and alone. Rose lifted up her head, noticing the calendar staring back at her. There was only two days left until Christmas. One more week until she had to begin to think about the future of the bakery business. When her husband, Sonny, had been alive he always had taken control, producing a mountain of creative sweet treats that were perfect for the holiday season.
And that's when the idea hit her, almost literally. A silver photo frame tipped itself of the shelf, falling into her hands. One of her favourite photos of Sonny and herself, on the last Christmas he was alive, standing outside their business, the entire bakery decked out in beautiful festive decorations. On the shelf behind them, dressing the fishbowl window was a large gingerbread display. An idea that had come to her husband a few days before Christmas eve and was his best idea to date. It was constructed of gingerbread biscuits and heavily decorated with colourful chocolates and candy canes.
A smile appeared on her lips, growing wider while crystal tears fell from her hazel orbs. This was what she needed, another beautiful window display for the festive season that was guaranteed to get more customers through the door. She set the frame back up onto it's shelf before grabbing her sketchbook from the drawer to begin working on the design. Reminding herself to not make it too complicated, for she didn't have the skills like Sonny once had.
After half a dozen cups of tea and the whole sketchpad scribbled on, Rose had finalised her idea in a half-dazed state. Tomorrow was Sunday, thankfully, the only day the bakery was closed. A perfect opportunity to explore the wonders of her suppliers and find some wonderful gems to dress the shop window with.
Early the next morning Rose awoke with a slightly groggier attitude, especially after catching sight of herself in the mirror as she past. What a depressing sight, she thought to herself before disappearing into the bathroom to get washed. In under an hour she had got herself showered, dressed and fed, albeit a quick slice of buttered toast washed down with a mug full of overly sweetened tea. She grabbed her sketch and stuffed it into her leather satchel before throwing on her winter coat and leaving the house behind.
The trip would of been easier if she hadn't been so stubborn not to learn how to drive when she had reached her teenage years, but for her she had found love at pastry school instead. That man had been Sonny, a man she quickly become besotted with early in their education. How she missed the simpler days of eating cold leftover takeaways snuggled up on their tiny sofa in shared student accommodation.
Rose walked to the outskirts of the market town and stood under the bus shelter, hoping one was due shortly. She never really paid much attention to the times or schedules that the council had plastered the interior of the wooden hut with. The buses never really stuck to those times, in her experience anyway. Shortly after she arrived the bus she needed stopped at the shelter. She paid for her ticket and hurried to one of the spare seats. She removed a pair of headphones from her satchel and decided to put on a little festive music, to help get her into the holiday spirit. Rose found herself gazing out the frosted window, half humming the words that rung in her ears.
The supply warehouse was a few miles out of her small village and into the middle of a grand retail park. Noticing her stop was fast approaching, she quickly pressed the red button and begun to stand from her seat. Suddenly the bus stopped a little too quick and Rose was left stumbling onto the person in front of her. She felt her cheeks flush a bright pink hue, she pulled herself up and apologised.
"I'm really sorry," she said quickly, regaining her posture. She tried her best to avoid the man's eyes completely.
The dark-haired man chuckled and turned around to face her, she quickly recognised him as a member of the kitchen staff from the homeless shelter, "It's okay," he replied with a smile before walking towards the front of the bus. Rose tucked her auburn hair behind her ear and followed his lead. The pair hopped of the bus and stood beside one another watching it drive off.
Rose was unsure whether or not to talk to the man any further, she didn't even know the poor guy's man. He had only learnt hers due to another member of the kitchen staff being one of her loyal customers. She placed her hands in her pockets and turned to face him, "It was nice to see you, but I really need to run some errands," she said with a smile, hoping it wouldn't come off like she was making yet another excuse not to spend time with him.
He nodded once in reply, "I understand, I won't keep you," he replied. The auburn-haired woman held up her hand in a small wave before making her way over to her favourite supplier.
The walk didn't take her too long, luckily the stop was fairly close by. Rose gathered up a shopping trolley and entered the warehouse via the huge automatic doors. The store was gigantic, with rows of shelves full of industrial-sized ingredients and equipment to run a food service or store. For her, it was like a personal wonderland with everything she could possibly need. Just like Sonny's area of expertise had been the decoration and running events in the bakery, her domain was the shopping and book keeping. Even if the books were a little sparse currently.
Rose fumbled in her small leather satchel and produced her scrawled sketch of Christmas display and set to work gathered up the items she would need to complete it. She walked slowly up and down each aisle not wanting to miss a single item that she could possibly need to create her display. By the time she had reached the check out, her trolley was almost ready to burst at the seams. She approached the counter with an awkward half-smile, wondering how she would possibly manage taking all the items home with her. She shrugged off the problem, that could be thought about again when she had finishing paying for the goods.
The whole checkout process was done relatively quick, despite the amount of items the baker had picked up. The clerk behind the counter had joked about whether she had plans to cook for an army. Rose had politely refused the notion and had explained her plans for a wonderful gingerbread display that would decorate the front of her bakery. She left the store with the promise the clerk would visit, she too was eager to see how this fabulous creation would turn out. Me too, the baker thought to herself trying to hide her true emotions behind a fake smile.
Rose walked briskly out the store, her items all packed up in brown paper bags and stacked high in her trolley. She dove into her satchel for her mobile and dialed for a taxi. Luckily for her there was very little time to wait before a big black cab turned up with a beaming middle aged gentleman behind the wheel. He saw how much she had bought and immediately hopped out to assist. Moments later the baker found herself deep in an awkward yet polite conversation with the driver, the usual chitchat you get if you find yourself in the back of a taxi. As they approached the familiar market street, she asked to be dropped as close to her bakery as possible. The driver happily obliged and once they reached the corner of the street decided to help the auburn-haired woman with her bags. She thanked the middle-aged man for all his help and paid her fare, adding a little extra tip for his assistance.
The baker was home in the staff-only kitchen in the rear of the store. Rose glanced up at the large calendar sitting in predominate view. Two days she reminded herself. She pulled her apron off the hook and rolled up the sleeves of her shirt. She walked over to the counter and carefully unpacked the shopping, laying all the ingredients out on the work surface. She gathered up her equipment and made a start on her huge work load.
Rose worked tirelessly through the rest of the day, stopping only for quick snacks and cups of tea for fuel, and throughout the night until she received a text message at 4am. Grizzly, she made herself her eleventh cup of tea while she flicked through her phone. She noticed a small text message from a member of the shelter staff, the man she ran into early on. He had sent her a short message thanking her for the sweet treats she had dropped last night. Apparently they had been a huge hit for those in need and it had allowed the staff to provide the homeless with something more than fuel in their bellies. A small smile appeared on her lips as she rested the phone back on the work counter.
The foundations of the gingerbread display had been made, it was now just down to the decorating. Rose's hazel orbs glanced up at the small plastic wall clock, only four hours remained until she opened. Thankfully her usual stock was prepped and ready to be taken out into the front of the store. It was just the large display that needed to be finished. She gathered up her decorations and icing bag and got to finishing her design.
A few hours later, Rose was ready to open the store. The back shelves were stock high with fresh loaves of bread and the plastic trays in the glass counter were covered in festive treats; beautiful cupcakes, gingerbread men cookies and mini iced fruitcakes. But her attention was focused on the main fish bowl window. Her huge gingerbread display was soon going to be revealed to the general public. She had covered the shelves with a white plastic sheeting and trimmed the edges with sparkling tinsel. She had strung lights on every corner and trailing throughout the display. She glanced at her watch, only ten minutes till opening. Panic was beginning to set in.
Rose found herself running into the back room and into the front of the store multiple times, like a headless chicken, making sure she had everything ready for the display. In addition the auburn-haired woman had decided to have an offer on her sweet treats, including a mug of hot cocoa, in a variety of flavours; cinnamon, gingerbread, mint, orange or original for the holiday season.
Once she was finished decorating her store, she opened up the floral blinds to the fishbowl window, revealing her festive creation to the public. To her surprise and joy, a small queue of people had gathered outside her store, their eyes sparkling at the display and mouths wide open in joy. A small smile appeared on her lips, she was happy everything had worked out. Rose moved to the front door, flipped the sign to open and allowed her customers into the store
In the window she had created a gingerbread village, a replica of the market street in biscuit from the inspirational view she saw from her window only last night. She wanted to give homage to her home and all the hardworking people who lived here. She only wished Sonny could of been here to witness this moment of pride that radiated from her.
Several hours into the opening, the cupcakes and gingerbread biscuits had dwindled. Every customer that had been inside had bought something and admired the display she had on offer. It had been a huge hit with the community and for that she was thankful. Rose was busy helping one of the younger customers pick the perfect bunch of cupcakes for himself and his siblings, a special treat his grandmother had suggested. A tall dark-haired man entered the store and waited patiently to be served. When the baker finally got to him, her hazel orbs widened.
"Oh hi," she said quickly, her cheeks flushing a pinkish hue, "What are you doing here?" she asked politely, not wishing to offend him.
He laughed, "Well I had to support the local business, after everything you do for us down at the shelter," he replied, "The gingerbread display looks amazing," he added.
"Thank you," Rose said with a smile, "What can I get for you?"
"What do you recommend?" he asked, glancing at the display case
"The cupcakes are popular, or perhaps you would like a gingerbread man and a mug of cocoa?" she suggested, picking up a paper cup from the back counter.
"I'd like that," he replied with a grin. It was in this moment Rose realised her Christmas wish had come true. The store was a raging success and she might not have to spend the holiday season alone after all.
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