The Gingerbread Boys

The Ginger Bread Boys
By: Shawndra Gonzales
Once upon a time, in a land far away, there lived a little old woman. She lived in a cottage on the top of a hill at the edge of a little village. She had no children of her own, but every Sunday after church the children of the village would come to visit her and play in her meadow. This made the old woman happy. She always gave the children milk and flower shaped ginger bread cookies.
One Sunday, when it was time to send the children home, the little old woman noticed two boys who were strangers. She had never seen them before. She asked them their names.
"I am Claude and this is my brother Tom." the oldest boy replied.
"Well I am glad you came, the children here just call me Grandmother Gingerbread." the old woman said. "You two should be going home now, your mother will be getting worried."
"We haven't got a mother, at least anymore." Claude said with a sad look in his eyes.
"Then your father will be needing you to help with the chores. I am sure he is wondering where you've gotten to." She tried again.
"We haven't a father anymore either."Tom finally spoke up with a heartbreaking sob.
"No mother, no father, where do you live, who takes care of you?"the old woman asked.
"We came here thinking someone would remember our mother or father, but no one does. When we went to the church, the pasture said this village has no place for orphans. Then we fallowed the children here. They all seem so happy when they are with you. Could we stay with you? It would only be a while." Tom asked so sweetly , and the old woman could hardly refuse.
"Okay, there is room enough, but you boys will have to help with the chores."
"We will, just tell us what to do and we will, won't we Claude?"
"Oh yes grandmother, we will be as good as if we were your own kin."Claude pledged.
Grandmother Gingerbread got the boys tucked away in a large bed with a straw matress. She gave them a couple of old quilts, and fluffy pillows. Then she gave them a kiss, and put out the candle and latched the door tight. The new family slept through their first night.
The next day Grandmother Gingerbread showed the boys how to work in the garden and gather berries. She showed them how to set out snares for small animals, and how to fish. But when Saturday came they set out for the village.
Every Saturday the Grandmother went to the village to by sugar and spices and milk for the children who came on Sunday. With two strong boys to help her carry her packages, the trip would be much easier.
"But grandmother, where is the flour and other things you need for the cookies?" Claude asked.
"Never you mind young Claude, I have lived in these hills my whole life, and I know how to find what I need."
That night the grandmother tucked the boys into the bed and blew out the candle. She did not latch the door tight, because she did not want to wake them when she got up early in the morning.
There was magic in the meadow. There was magic in the sunrise. There was magic in the cookies the old woman made.
Every Sunday, before the moon went to bed, while the silver dew still kissed the petals, Grandmother Gingerbread gathered flowers from her meadow. She brought them into the little cottage, and laid them out on the table below the only window. Just as the sun peeked over the mountian and into the window, the grandmother made her cookies.
"Sugar and spices, as the sun rises turn these into cookies for the children with all of my love." Grandmother Gingerbread said as she sprinkled the flowers with sugar and spices.
There on the table were gingerbread cookies, all in the shape of flowers. The magic was in the meadow and the sunrise, and the cookies.
"Time to get up Claude. Time to get up Tom. Get washed and off to church you go."
"What is that wonderful smell?" Tom asked before he even got his eyes open.
"The cookies!" Claude exclaimed, "but when did you have time to make them?"
"Don't worry about the cookies, they will be here after church. Get yourselves ready, and then later you can play with the other children."
After church the boys fetched the milk from a near by creek where it had kept cool. Grandmother Gingerbread passed out the cookies to the children. Claude and Tom each got an extra one, but they didn't tell. The children laughed and played, and when it was time to go home, Claude and Tom stayed behind.
Grandmother Gingerbread and the boys were happy together. They lived and worked and gathered food as a family. The boys helped with everything except the cookies.
One Saturday the boys were getting ready to go to the village, but Grandmother was not.
"What's the matter Grandmother, don't we need the milk, the sugar, the spices? The children will be so sad without thier cookies." Claude said.
Grandmother had not realized how big he had gotten. How many years had passed, he was almost a man now.
"No, Claude, I am afraid I am too old to make the cookies anymore. My body is too tired to get up so early. There will be no more cookies." Grandmother said as she saddly shook her head.
"But there are always cookies." Tom said, "The children will come and they know there are cookies and milk for them."
"We will make the cookies." Claude exclaimed
"But you must tell us how." Tom said.
The old woman had never told anyone the magic of the meadow, the magic of the sunrise, or the magic of the cookies. Could these boys make the cookies? Would the magic work for anyone but Grandmother Gingerbread? But these boys were just like kin, they could almost be her own sons. Maybe, it just might work.
"My boys, I have never told anyone how the cookies are made. The magic is love. You must pick the flowers before the moon sets, while the silver dew is stilll on the petals. Then the flowers need to be placed on this table below the window. Just as the sun peeks over the mountian and into the window, you must sprinkle the flowers with sugar and spices. The words are important, you must say, 'Sugar and spices, as the sun rises turn these into cookies for the children with all my love.' The flowers will turn into cookies, and the children will be happy."
"That is the magic, we can do that. Come on Tommy, we need to get to the village for the milk and sugar and spices."
Claude and Tom brought back the milk and put it in the creek to stay cool. They set aside the spices and sugar for morning. They made a nice stew for dinner and went to bed early. They tucked in Grandmother Gingerbread, and blew out the light. They latched the door and went to sleep.
When the woke up, the moon was still in the sky, and they quietly got dressed to gather the flowers. The door was latched the night before, so when they tried to leave quietly it made a loud noise.
"Did it wake her?" Tom asked.
"She is old, she doesn't see or hear as well as she use to. See, she still sleeps. Hurry to the meadow." Claude answered.
They boys carefully gathered the flowers with the silver dew still on there petals. They laid them out on the table just as Grandmother had told them to.
"It is still to early." Tom said. " I think we could sleep just a little."
"The sun won't be up for an hour. I feel too tired to stay awake. Open the window, and the cool breeze will keep us from sleeping too long. Just a short nap should do. Right under the table, that way we won't be too comfortable." Claude said as he started to doze.
The cool breeze woke Grandmother Gingerbread. She noticed the flowers, and realized it was almost sunrise.
"I hade better hurry before the sun. Those boys gathered the flowers, but they only finished half the magic."
She Sprinkled the flowers with sugar and spices, and said,"Sugar and spices, as the sun rises, turn these into cookies for the children with all my love."
The sun peeked over the mountian and into the window of the little cottage. The flowers on the table turned into cookies. Grandmother
Gingerbread did not see Claude and Tom under the table. They had the magic dew of the meadow on them, and the magic of the sunrise, and now they were magic cookies too. In the shape of gingerbread boys of course.