220 lines
5.2 KiB
TeX
220 lines
5.2 KiB
TeX
\herosection{Warm Bread}
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\dropstart{In} the village of Willowford, \\
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the bakery stood beside the old stone bridge. \\
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Every morning before sunrise, \\
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Elias lit the ovens.\\
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His father had built them, \\
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and Elias had tended them all his life.\\
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His wife worked there too — \\
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humming as she kneaded dough.\\
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When illness took her, \\
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the joy left.\\
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But Elias' bread stayed warm and faithful.
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Sam first came to Willowford as a scrawny boy \\
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with patched boots \\
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and a mother who was always desperate for work.\\
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A freak accident had taken his father \\
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and left Sam with a speech impediment.\\
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They were destitute.\\
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They slept wherever kindness allowed — \\
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a barn loft, \\
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a stable corner, \\
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an empty shed.\\
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Some days there was food.\\
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Other days — not so much.
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One bitter morning, \\
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long before the dawn bell rang, \\
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Sam drifted toward the bakery, \\
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drawn by the glow in the windows \\
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and the smell of baking bread.\\
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He wasn't begging.\\
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But he couldn't resist the call.
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Elias noticed him through the steam-fogged glass.\\
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He opened the door and said, \\
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``Come in, lad, \\
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stand by the oven.''
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Sam stretched his hands toward the fire, \\
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feeling slowly returning to his fingers.
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Elias cut a heel from a cooling loaf, \\
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slathered it with butter, \\
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and set it before him.\\
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Sam devoured it.
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When Elias asked his name, \\
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the boy's voice came in small, \\
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halting fragments.\\
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``Sam,'' he whispered.\\
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Then, after a long pause: \\
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``Sam and mother… c-c-cold and hungry.''
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Elias pretended not to notice the stumble.\\
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He wrapped the rest of the bread in linen \\
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and handed it to him.
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``Give this to her,'' he said. \\
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``And remember: Every winter ends.''
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Sam nodded once, \\
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quick and shy, \\
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and hurried away.
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He and his mother left Willowford the next day, \\
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following the harvest south.\\
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The villagers never noticed them.
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Years turned.\\
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Sam returned as a young man, \\
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broad-shouldered, \\
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still few of words, \\
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gathering unwanted scraps from the sawmill \\
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and selling them for firewood.\\
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He lived in a small hut near the mill.\\
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Elias saw him now and then, \\
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but didn't remember the hungry boy from long ago.
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Then came the winter when the river froze.\\
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Snow fell for days.\\
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One evening, \\
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carrying a sack of flour up the stairs, \\
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Elias slipped and went down hard.\\
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Kneading dough, \\
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hauling wood, \\
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tending the ovens — \\
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out of the question.
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The next morning he tried using his wife's cane.\\
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By noon, \\
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he was exhausted, \\
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his ankle excruciating.\\
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He hung a sign on the door:
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\begin{quote}
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\emph{Closed for a time.}
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\end{quote}
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Word spread quickly.\\
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Villagers stopped at the window, \\
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pressed their hands to the glass, \\
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left notes of sympathy and encouragement.\\
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They said the village wasn't the same without his bread — \\
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without the warm smell drifting through the streets.
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On the third morning, \\
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there came a knock at his door.
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Opening, \\
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he found Sam standing in the snow, \\
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a bundle of firewood under his arm.
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``Sam help,'' \\
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he said.
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Elias blinked. \\
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``Do you know anything about baking?''
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Sam shook his head. \\
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``You show.\\
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Sam do.''
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Sam worked clumsily at first — \\
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burned his fingers, \\
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ruined a batch of dough, \\
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dropped a tray of rolls.\\
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The bread came out crooked, \\
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as if the dough had argued with itself all night.\\
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Still, \\
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the smell of baking crept through Willowford's lanes, \\
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and villagers lined up again \\
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for warm loaves and familiar comfort.
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Every morning, \\
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Sam arrived before the dawn bell.\\
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He chopped kindling, \\
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fetched water, \\
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and kneaded dough until his arms trembled.\\
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When Elias apologized for being a burden, \\
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Sam only shook his head and kept working.
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One morning, \\
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Elias noticed a girl outside the bakery window.
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She stood alone, \\
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hands tucked beneath her arms, \\
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watching the loaves come from the oven.
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Sam saw her too.
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He cut a heel from a cooling loaf, \\
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slathered it with butter, \\
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and went outside.
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Elias watched through the steam-fogged glass.
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The girl ate quickly.
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Sam wrapped the rest of the loaf in linen \\
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and handed it to her.
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Elias said nothing.
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\medskip
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Weeks passed.\\
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Elias's ankle eventually healed.\\
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One night, \\
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after the last loaf cooled, \\
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Elias studied the young man \\
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sweeping flour from the counter.
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``You've helped more than I ever could have hoped,'' \\
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Elias said quietly. \\
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``Why, Sam?''
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Sam set the broom aside.
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``You kind.''
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Elias frowned, searching his memory.
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``When Sam a boy, you kind to Sam and mother.''
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Elias closed his eyes, \\
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remembering the hungry boy in the doorway.
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``I didn't know it mattered.''
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Sam nodded once.
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``It matter.''
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\medskip
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When Elias could finally walk without a cane,\\
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Sam watched him carry a sack of flour \\
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up the stairs from the storeroom.\\
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``Tomorrow, Sam go back,'' he said.
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Elias started to protest.\\
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Sam shook his head.\\
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``You OK now.''
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The next morning Elias rose before dawn and baked a small loaf. \\
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Round and rosemary-scented, like the one from years ago.\\
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He wrapped it in linen and handed it to Sam at the door.
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“For you,” Elias said.
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Sam bowed, took the loaf, \\
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and stepped into the morning light. \\
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His boots crunched through the crusted snow \\
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as he returned to his hut by the sawmill.
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\reflectionshead
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Where does a kindness end? |