“Is it you again?” asked Mr. John Baker, the baker, noticing the girl. John Baker was an older man with streaks of gray in his hair.
The girl stood still, her eyes glued to the fresh, golden buns displayed on the counter.
Annie glanced at Mr. Baker and, after taking a deep breath, nodded slightly.
“I’m… just looking,” she whispered.
Mr. Baker could tell the girl was polite but too shy to say anything more.
“Dreaming about buns, huh?” he asked with a kind smile. “Or maybe you want to learn how to bake them?”
The girl blushed and lowered her head, unable to answer.
Annie was from the local orphanage, and on her way back from school, she often passed by this bakery in the heart of the town. Everything inside felt unfamiliar to her, yet at the same time, it evoked a sense of warmth and belonging. She dreamed of being on the other side of the counter, just like Mr. Baker.
Every day, she walked past the bakery, the aroma of fresh buns warming her soul. When she stopped at the counter, she couldn’t take her eyes off the wide array of pastries—not because she was hungry, but because she admired their beauty. She loved the craftsmanship of Mr. Baker.
One day, feeling particularly downhearted, Annie mustered the courage to speak to him:
“Hello,” she said, her voice so soft that Mr. Baker barely caught it.
He was surprised to see her standing inside the shop. Usually, she lingered outside, but today she had stepped in.
“Ah, it’s you,” he said warmly. “I knew you’d come in eventually. What brings you here?”
Annie fidgeted with the frayed hem of her worn coat, her nervousness building with every second.
“I… I just wanted to look,” she said timidly.
Mr. Baker smiled and slid a basket of freshly baked buns closer to her. He said gently:
“Come on, take one. Don’t just stand there staring—go ahead.”
Annie stood frozen, confused by his generosity. Back at the orphanage, no one ever gave away bread for free.
“But… I can’t,” she murmured, her voice trembling as she felt a lump forming in her throat.
“Oh, don’t worry about that,” Mr. Baker said, handing her a warm, jam-filled pastry. “Go ahead, take one. If you don’t like these, I can bake something special just for you—it’s no trouble.”
Overcoming her hesitation, Annie reached for the pastry and began eating it right there, unable to utter a word. Her eyes lit up with a mix of joy and disbelief.
Annie kept coming back to the bakery. She spent more and more time there, not to eat but to watch and learn how Mr. Baker created his delicious treats. She dreamed of becoming a baker herself one day.
“Come on in, wash your hands, and follow me,” said Mr. Baker one afternoon, disappearing through the door that led to the kitchen.
“Really?” Annie’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“Of course,” he replied with a smile. “I’ll show you how it’s done. You’ve been curious, haven’t you?”
She stepped through the door into the kitchen, her heart pounding with excitement. Everything around her seemed enormous—the sacks of flour, the large mixing bowls, and the various tools scattered across the counters.
Mr. Baker began teaching her about different types of dough, the perfect oven temperature, and the secrets of kneading. At first, Annie just watched. But within a few days, she started mimicking his movements.
Her tasks began with the basics—shaping buns and rolling dough. Over time, Mr. Baker showed her how to make pies and buns with fillings.
Whenever Annie worked with dough, she felt a sense of peace. It was as if all her worries—about school and life at the orphanage—melted away. She cherished the hours she spent learning from Mr. Baker, who became not only her mentor but also a source of comfort.
One evening, Annie stayed late at the bakery, engrossed in her work, and missed dinner at the orphanage. When she returned, the headmistress was waiting for her at the entrance.
“Have you been at that bakery again all evening?” the headmistress asked sternly.
“I just…” Annie began to explain, but the headmistress cut her off.
“You’re required to be here after school. From now on, you’re not to set foot in that bakery without my permission.”
Annie felt her heart sink. The bakery was the one place where she felt truly happy. But now, even that small joy was under threat.
For the next month, Annie didn’t visit the bakery. Mr. Baker grew worried, wondering if she had fallen ill or been adopted. Yet deep down, he doubted she would leave without saying goodbye. Thoughts of her filled his mind—she had become like a granddaughter to him. Before Annie, the bakery had been his only solace, but now it felt empty without her.
One day, as he stood outside the shop, he spotted a familiar figure walking past.
“Annie, wait!” he called out, hurrying after her.
Annie stopped, tears welling up in her eyes as she saw him.
“Why haven’t you been coming by? Is something wrong?” he asked, his voice filled with concern.
“The headmistress scolded me,” Annie replied, her words stumbling through her tears. “She said I can’t be late, or she’ll punish me. I’m sorry… goodbye.”
Mr. Baker stood frozen, trying to process her words. What harm could there be in a child spending time learning a trade in a bakery? He didn’t understand why she was being kept away.
After days of thinking it over, Mr. Baker decided to visit the orphanage himself. He went straight to the headmistress’s office and showed her the footage from the bakery’s cameras. The videos captured Annie hard at work, learning how to bake, her face glowing with pride as she succeeded in making her first perfect pastry.
Mr. Baker explained how much Annie loved baking and how this skill could benefit her. He even suggested that Annie could help prepare treats for the orphanage during special occasions.
After much persuasion and reviewing the footage, the headmistress agreed to let Annie spend her free time at the bakery. She admitted she was only trying to protect Annie, worried that someone might take advantage of her since she had no family to look out for her.
Back at the bakery, Annie felt valued and confident. She continued to master the art of baking, and her bond with Mr. Baker grew stronger.
One evening, Annie stayed late at the bakery to help Mr. Baker clean up before closing. He noticed a worried look on her face and couldn’t ignore it.
“Annie, what’s wrong? Why do you look so upset?” he asked gently.
“Mr. Baker, I don’t even know how to say this,” she replied, her voice trembling. “Can I… can I stay here overnight? I want to run away from the orphanage.”
Mr. Baker looked at her, startled. “Why would you want to run away?” he asked, concerned.
“You see, the other kids… they laugh at me because I don’t play with them or spend time with them. They don’t like me, and they won’t leave me alone. At school, I have friends, but at the orphanage, everyone is so mean… I’m scared of them,” Annie admitted, sitting in a corner, her small frame shaking.
Mr. Baker knelt beside her and gently placed a hand on her shoulder. “Annie, I’ll talk to the headmistress. Don’t worry, it’s too late for you to be out like this. Let me walk you back, or she might get upset again. If you run away, it could cause trouble for both of us. People might think I hid you here. I’ll figure something out.”
He gave her a reassuring hug, then took her hand and walked her back to the orphanage.
When they arrived, Mr. Baker spoke to the headmistress, explaining Annie’s fears and struggles. Surprisingly, she didn’t scold Annie for being late. Instead, she agreed to keep a closer eye on the other children and promised to ensure Annie felt safer at the orphanage.
Annie continued visiting the bakery and learning to bake, but over time, Mr. Baker noticed her enthusiasm waning. She seemed less excited and more withdrawn, weighed down by the challenges of life at the orphanage.
One day at school, Annie was pulled out of class by her teacher.
“Annie, there’s someone waiting for you outside,” the teacher said, reading a text message on her phone.
Confused, Annie stepped out into the hallway and saw one of the orphanage caretakers waiting for her.
“Come with me,” the caretaker said with a warm smile. “Your school day is over for today.”
As they exited the school building, Annie spotted Mr. Baker standing at the corner, waiting for her.
“Do you have anything to say, Annie?” the caretaker asked, her tone gentle but firm.
Annie’s heart pounded. She didn’t understand what was happening. Was she in trouble? Had Mr. Baker told them about her complaints?
The caretaker’s expression suddenly softened into a wide smile. “Congratulations, dear. That’s what I have to say.”
“What?” Annie whispered, utterly confused.
The caretaker laughed and turned toward Mr. Baker. “Go on, tell her yourself,” she said.
“Well, Annie,” Mr. Baker began, his voice a little shaky, “I’ve filed all the paperwork. From now on, you’ll be living with me. Welcome home, daughter.”
Mr. Baker had completed all the necessary steps to become Annie’s legal guardian. Despite his age, his stable income and cozy home made it possible for him to take her in.
Annie blossomed under his care, continuing to develop her baking skills. Over the years, the bakery became one of the most popular spots in town, thanks in part to Annie’s efforts in advertising and introducing new recipes.
Twice a month, Annie visited her former orphanage, holding baking workshops for the children. She taught them simple recipes and showed them that life outside the orphanage could be full of hope and opportunity.
Annie and Mr. Baker remained a team, proving that a little kindness and guidance could change lives.
