The Gingerbread Man
by George Moyle
Craig Peterson sat by the window at the homeless shelter, staring out at the night's dark sky. Outside the window, snow reflected the moon's pale gaze, illuminating the empty streets. It was Christmas and everyone was inside with their families, soaking in the warmth of love and sharing. Trading presents, eating pie, and roasting chestnuts on an open flame. Where was he? In a homeless shelter! This wasn't how he wanted to spend his last Christmas.
Most of the other men had already gone to bed, their stomachs full of hot soup and turkey from dinner. He was glad he got to see them. Craig had spent so long in the hospital and wanted to see his friends one last time. It wasn't as satisfying as he thought it would be, they hadn't acted the same around a dying man. There was one thing Craig truly wanted before the cancer took his soul to a better place.
Three years ago his wife had given birth to a child, but his wife had passed on during the birth. Their baby was a beautiful child who he named her Katie, it was the name his wife wanted. Alas, Craig knew he couldn't take care of her. He didn't want her to grow up on the streets, and so he put Katie up for adoption. It was a hard decision, but she deserved more than all of this. If only he could see her one last time.
Craig sat in the darkness and gloom of the room, waiting to be taken to a better place. He almost wished it would come, so he could join his wife in God's kingdom. Just as Craig was about to drift into sleep a flame flickered in the blackness. A woman and a child were walking from a door towards the group of sleeping men. In the girl's hand was a plate of colorful cookies.
“Excuse me,” said the woman. “Do you know where the kitchen is? I was supposed to drop off cookies, but I forgot until this evening.”
“It's over there,” said Craig pointing towards the kitchen.
“Cookie?” said the young girl picking up a gingerbread man with chocolate-chip eyes and a mouth of white frosting.
“Thanks honey,” said Craig reaching out to grab the cookie and adding, “What's your name?”
“Katie,” she replied firmly.
“Come along now Katie,” the woman said.
“Merry Christmas,” Katie whispered as she waddled off towards the kitchen.
It was probably just a coincidence, but it didn't matter to Craig Peterson. He knew it was unlikely that she was his daughter, but that sliver of hope was enough for him. Now he was ready to die in peace.
●●●
“Craig? Craig?” the men were shouting at him. Now that most of the men were getting up a circle was forming around Craig who was laying on the cold, linoleum floor. A beam of light was shooting through the window, illuminating Craig in the early morning.
It didn't matter how loud they were, Craig wasn't waking up. Craig had passed away the night before in peace. A man from the crowd lifted Craig's clammy hand which had been clinging to something over his heart. As the man drew back Craig's hand an object looked back at him. Staring back at the man was a gingerbread man, complete with chocolate chip eyes and a white-icing smile.
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I hope you enjoyed this story, please tell me what you think. The wording isn't advanced, I know. That isn't what makes this story one of my favorite pieces of writing.
Cheers,
George Moyle
