Every Sunday after church my parents would take us to the local bakery for doughnuts. I loved this tradition. I found church to be so boring (I’m sorry Jesus), but knowing I’d have a warm, fresh, glazed doughnut in my hands was worth every long sermon. On this one bitterly cold, December Sunday the bakery was packed. A line of irritable costumers snaked around the cramped space, and out through the door. We didn’t seem to be moving very fast, and that made the adults in the room grouchy. Suddenly the man behind the cash register (he was the owner of the shop) started yelling, “Hey! Hey! Stop him!”. I didn’t witness it,  but apparently a customer grabbed his baked goods and fled without paying. It all happened so fast, and nobody was able to help out. When it became apparent that this fella got away with the crime the mood in the bakery went from mild irritation to down-right abysmal. People were grumbling. The owner was very unhappy. And the line went from moving at a snail’s pace to a complete stop. Out of no where a very tall customer with a very deep voice began to sing Jingle Bells. We all just stared at him, and marveled at his complete inhibition. Before I knew it we were singing along with him– the whole shop. When we finished the song we burst into applause. After that, another customer paid the owner for the stolen baked goods along with what he was buying. That got applause too. It was a magical moment. One I will never forget. Let’s make some peppermint whoopie pies. Continue reading →