A Baker’s Dozen – An American Folktale

He visited the nearby church and pleaded with the Saint to save him and his family from the curse of the old lady. After the prayer, he went back warily to his shop and began to bake a fresh batch of Saint Nicholas cookies, albeit with a feeling of emptiness in his heart.

As the cookies baked, numerous thoughts about the outcome of the cookies began to torture his already troubled mind. Moments passed swiftly as he waited, engulfed in worries of how the cookies would turn out. When it was finally time to take out the freshly baked cookies from the oven, he was surprised to see that they were perfectly baked.

After three weeks of misery, he was beyond relieved as he began to lay the successfully baked cookies on the tray where they could be seen from outside. As he looked up, he saw Saint Nicholas standing right in front of him.

The baker, weakened with shock, found it difficult to keep standing and slumped on the chair. He could not take his eyes off the Saint, who looked at him sympathetically.

Finding it difficult to speak, the baker buried his face in his hands and made a difficult effort to withhold the tears.

Saint Nicholas said, “My entire life was dedicated to serving the needy, and wiping away the tears of pain of those who suffered. God has always taught us thus. He has always been generous to us and shouldn’t we, His children be the same?”

The baker lay still, listening to the Saint’s soothing voice.

The Saint continued, “Is an extra cookie a big price to pay for the generosity that God showered on us?” Saying thus, the Saint vanished.

The baker was blessed by the Saint’s calming words, which seemed to wash away all the troubles of his life.

A few moments later, when the baker heard the door of his shop open, he saw the same old woman asking him for a baker’s dozen of freshly baked Saint Nicholas cookies. The baker, who was now a changed man, smiled at the old woman and counted thirteen cookies and gave them away free of cost.

The old lady looked at the baker for a moment and said that the spell was now broken. From then on, a baker’s dozen would always mean thirteen.

The baker had learnt his lesson and he began to generously give away from all that he baked. Thirteen to him would always mean A BAKER’S DOZEN.

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