VINTAGE TALES FROM AROUND THE WORLD

A BAKER'S DOZEN (America🇺🇸)

One of the early American frontier, stories of adventure and courage have been passed down through generations. These tales continue to inspire us with their timelines wisdom and spirit of perseverance.

Have you ever wondered
about the origin of the term 'Baker's Dozen'?

Let's read;

Once upon a time, in the Dutch colonial town of Albany, New York, there lived a baker named Van Amsterdam. He was an honest and successful baker who had a large family and owned a thriving business. However, his happiness was disrupted during a Saint Nicholas Day celebration when an old lady took a bite out of one of his special Saint Nicholas cookies.

Van Amsterdam's shop was always busy with customers, especially during the days leading up to Saint Nicholas Day when people came to buy his delicious gingerbread cookies that were iced in red and white, resembling Saint Nicholas as the Dutch knew him - tall and thin with a heavy cap and a long red Bishop's cloak.

Every morning, the baker meticulously checked and balanced his scales and made sure to give his customers exactly what they paid for - neither more nor less. However, on one Saint Nicholas Day morning, the baker was taken aback when an ugly old lady, wrapped in a long black shawl, barged into his shop.

"I have come for a dozen of your Saint Nicholas cookies!" she cried in a shrill voice.

Van Amsterdam counted out twelve cookies and started to wrap them, but the old woman reached out and stopped him.

"Only twelve?" she screamed. "I asked for a dozen. Here are only twelve."

Van Amsterdam looked surprised for a moment.

"Madam," said the baker, "everyone knows that a dozen is twelve, and that is what I have given you."

"But I say a dozen is thirteen. Give me one more," she said.

Van Amsterdam knew that some bakers in town sometimes gave extra cookies to their customers, so the old lady was confused about how many were in a dozen, but he was appalled by the custom. He thought to himself, "What man of sense would give away a cookie for free?"

But he was not one of them.

"Madam," the baker said firmly, "customers get exactly what they paid for - not more and not less."

It took quite some time for the baker to make the old lady understand that a dozen meant only twelve and he had given her the right amount of cookies.

"I have a big family to support," the baker said stiffly.

"If I gave away all my cookies, how could I feed my family? A dozen is twelve, not thirteen. Take it or leave it."

"Then you may keep the cookies," replied the old lady.

She turned to go but stopped at the door and said, "Hearken, Van Amsterdam, however honest you may be, your heart is small, and your fists are tight. Fall again, mount again, learn to count again." She left the shop silently, leaving behind the cookies.

From that day on, everything went wrong in Van Amsterdam's bakery. His bread rose too high or not at all. His pies were sour or too sweet. His cakes crumbled or were chewy. His cookies were burnt or doughy.

His customers soon noticed the difference. Before long, most of them were going to other bakers.

For the first time, he was scared, and that was the moment he realized that he had been cursed.

He said to himself, "That old lady has cursed me. Is this how my honesty is rewarded?"

A year passed, and things became worse for the baker. The old lady visits again to the baker's shop and demands a baker's dozen of the latest batch of the baker's cookies. Misfortune and frustration make him so angry that he curses her and slams the door against her.

The week that followed was even more unfortunate than the preceding one. The baker grew poorer and poorer.

Since he said little, he baked little, and the shelves were nearly bare. His last few customers slipped away.

Word got around that the baker was losing its qualities.

Finally, on the day before Saint Nicholas Day, not one customer came to Van Amsterdam's Shop.

At day's end, the baker sat alone staring at his unsold Saint Nicholas cookies. "I wish Saint Nicholas could help me now," the baker said to himself.

Then he closed his shop and went sadly to bed.

That night the baker had a dream. He was a child again, one in a crowd of happy children. And there in the midst of them was Saint Nicholas himself. The Bishop's white horse stood beside him, with a basket filled with gifts. Nicholas pulled out one gift after another and handed it over to the children. But Van Amsterdam noticed something strange. No matter how many presents Nicholas passed out, there was always more to give. The more he took from the baskets, the more they seemed to hold. Then Nicholas handed a gift to Van Amsterdam. It was one of the baker's own Saint Nicholas cookies. Van Amsterdam looked up to him, but it was no longer Saint Nicholas standing there. It was the old lady with a long black shawl, smiling down at him.

Van Amsterdam awoke with a start. Moonlight shone through the half-closed shutters as he lay there thinking... "I always gave my customers exactly what they paid for -not more nor less." "But why not give more? The next morning, Saint Nicholas's Day, the baker rose early. He visited the nearby church and pleaded to save him and his family from the curse of the old lady. After the prayer, he came back to the shop. He mixed his gingerbread dough and rolled it out. Then he molded the shapes and baked them. He iced the cookies in red and white to look just like Saint Nicholas. And the cookies were as fine as any he had made.

Van Amsterdam had just finished his work when he heard the shop door open and footsteps approached the counter. In walked the old lady with the long black shawl.

"I have come for a dozen of your Saint Nicholas cookies", said the old lady. The baker knew before he looked up that the ugly old woman had returned and asked him for a dozen Saint Nicholas cookies.

In great excitement, Van Amsterdam counted out twelve cookies -and one more.

"In this shop from now on a dozen is thirteen, said the baker.

" The woman smiled and said," Finally, you learned to count well ".

"You will surely be rewarded ".

She paid for the cookies and started. But as the door Swing shut, they seemed to play a trick on him.

He thought he glimpsed the tail end of a long red clock.

As the old lady foretold, Van Amsterdam was rewarded, indeed. When people heard he counted thirteen as a dozen, he had more customers than he had. He changed his ways and became a successful baker and lived happily with his family again.

Van Amsterdam realized the Power of Giving more than what is expected can break any curse. He grew so wealthy that other bakers in town began doing the same.

From there, the practice spread to other towns and at last through all the American colonies.

(This story teaches us that honesty and fairness are important but the power of generosity and kindness can bring blessings beyond measure.)

The term "baker dozen" was born and it meant thirteen instead of twelve.)

Source:A Saint Nicholas Tale by Aaron Shepherd.

*****