THE BAKER © Mike Lee No one knew the value of the baker in their town – a businessman most had known all their lives – for he was more than he appeared. He was a baker, yes, but oh so much more than just that, yet no one knew it. No one knew he changed their lives and he had over five-hundred years. They’d known him as an old man and assumed he’d always been there. Every generation heard ancestors say they’d known him “years ago” and that he’d never changed. And no, he didn’t for he was not just a baker. He at first was an alchemist – back in 1621 – where he learned portions that could extend life, alter and cure diseases, change personalities and many others. He’d learned chemistry deep in the Urals before moving westward to Romania. There, at just nineteen, he was apprentice to a baker who – by thirty – passed away leaving the shop for him to run. As towns’ folk grew to like him and to buy their baked goods from him, he saw opportunity to work his magic in their lives. A harsh dishonest tradesman who treated them all unfairly, cheated them financially and did not care about them, bought bread from the shop. So one night two bread loaves were made, the potion added to them which the baker knew would change the man. Three days passed and the town was all aflutter with the news that things were different. The tradesman was not his old self; he’d changed. He now was giving honest measure, correct change, even went door to door to make amends for his past sins. And a boy, badly retarded, bought bread at the bakery and three days later, all the news and gossip was the change that had occurred. The young man was completely different; he was reading at an advanced level. An old farmer who barely survived on meager produce, came into the bakery shop to buy a loaf or two. By the weeks’ end, the people were amazed that he had grown more wheat than he could use and sold the excess for a profit. This continued on and on, year after year, through generations yet no person ever learned it was the baker who was source. His jar of chemical – a purple compound that he kept well guarded – was put on a shelf where none would notice and he only pulled it down when no one could see him use it. This, his secret magic powder, changed the lives of the towns’ people for five hundred years or more. The baker, now quite old, still runs his shop and still makes bread for all the towns’ folk, changing lives. No one’s aware of what he’s doing or that it’s the baker who’s improving lives. His alchemy has benefitted countless people and his value to the town is unsurpassed, yet no one knows it. He’s not recognized and not rewarded, and no person gives him thanks. And yet he loves the town and all the people, but most of them pay him little heed. He’s just accepted as part of the town, yet many would not be there if it were not for the baker.
Posted on: Wed, 20 Aug 2014 23:52:50 +0000
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