Based on a true story.
The month was December and Teacher C was reading books about gingerbread men running off just when hungry little mouths were about to eat them. One sunny and cold day, the kind that makes you want to stay home and sit by the fire, she walked the preschoolers to a bakery down the street.
“I’m terribly sorry, children. We don’t have any gingerbread men left,” said the baker. “They all ran off, towards the park!”
The children’s eyes became round like full moons. They trembled with excitement. Teacher C led them to the park and they looked everywhere. Under slides and bridges, behind rocks, amongst trees and sand, determined to find those cookies. Real, live gingerbread men. What good luck.
A woman was at the park with her child. “I saw them run towards the school!” she said.
Teacher C and the children hurried back, and there, in the middle of the light-filled classroom sat a tray of gingerbread cookies, legs and arms intact, ready to succumb to their fate.