“Papa, where did I come from?” The six year old boy looked up at his father questioningly. His father paused in his methodical way of stocking colorfully striped boxes filled with candies and cookies onto shelves.

He hesitantly replied, “Where did you come from?”

“Ya, where did I come from?”

“Well, your mama and I...made you.”

“How?”

“...We made you in Mama's oven.”

“Like a gingerbread man?”

“Kind of. But we baked you in Mama's oven.”

“Oh. Okay.”

Hansel ambled among the white-washed shelves in the sweet shop, making his way behind the wooden sales-counter and into the kitchen. Climbing up on a stool, he watched his mother's round figure take yet another tray of gingerbread men out of an oven.

I'm like a gingerbread man, he thought to himself. Cool!

.
Hansel came in from playing one morning to find Mrs. Pollywoggle, one of his mother's very large friends, conversing with his mother in the kitchen. They were sharing milk and a plate of misshapen sugar cookies that weren't fit for customers. Hansel came over to the table and asked his mother for a drink. While his mother got him a glass, he looked at Mrs. Pollywoggle eating cookie after cookie.

“You eat like a pig.” He stated it like a well-known fact. The woman turned to stone with a cookie half-way to her mouth. Her
shocked, angry eyes turned on Hansel.

“You, boy, are an impudent, rude child who should keep quiet while in the presence of your elders!”

“Are you old? You don't seem old, but I guess I've just never seen an old person so fat before.”

That was it. Mrs. Pollywoggle's face turned more and more red with each word until it darkened to the same shade as the scarlet candy buttons they used on the gingerbread men in the bakery. Her thick hand wrapped itself around the green umbrella at her side. She swung it at Hansel. Hansel ducked, falling off his stool and ran around the counter toward the back door with her bustling along behind him.

He called out when he leaped out the door saying, “Run, run as fast as you can! You can't catch me! I'm the gingerbread man!”

.
Finished washing the last mixing bowl before going off to play with his friends, Hansel turned to see his mother pulling a pan of gingerbread men from the oven. They were perfect. Gingerbread men were also his favorite. He swiped three of them from the cooling wrack on his way to play and dashed out of the kitchen.

“Get back here! Those are for customers!” His mother scolded.

Hansel dodged milling customers on his way to the front door. He laughed. “Run, run as fast as you can! You can't catch me! I'm the gingerbread man!”

.
Mary Stubs was the prettiest girl in class. Hansel loved that she always wore ribbons in her hair. One day, Mary filed into line ahead of him for their midmorning break. Once out the door, she raced for the swings. Hansel chased after her and snatched the ribbon from the end of her braid. She whipped around, grabbing for it. Off went Hansel, fast as his legs would go. He trailed the ribbon behind him luring her after him.

Teasingly he shouted, “Run, run as fast as you can! You can't catch me! I'm the gingerbread man!”

.
Thomas Tucker poked the younger boy's shoulder again, harder than before. “Hand it over!” he demanded in the bossiest tone he could manage with his lisp. The smaller mousy boy cowered, his chin trembling.

“I don't have any,” he mumbled. The boy hunched further down preparing himself for another painful poke.

Thomas growled at him. “I told you yesterday! You are to bring me pudding at lunch time for the rest of the week!” He shoved the boy against the school's red brick wall. The boy collapsed to the dirt floor of the playground seeming to shrivel under the larger boy's fury.

“Oh, look,” a voice behind Thomas drawled, “there's Terrible Thomas Tucker beating up on little kids again.” Thomas turned slowly clenching his hands into fists. His cold eyes searched for the scornful, taunting voice until he spotted Hansel leaning against an old maple tree.

Red with rage, Thomas marched over to Hansel. “Take that back!” he said through clenched teeth.

Hansel just looked at him, searching his eyes.

Thomas struck out at Hansel swinging with all his might. Hansel hopped back, and Thomas' fist crunched against the tree. Thomas yelled, his eyes squeezing back tears. “I'll get you for this!” He dived for Hansel.

Hansel skipped away. “Now, Thomas. You don't have to do this.”

“You're dead!” Thomas charged after Hansel.

Hansel raced away shaking his head and replied, “Run, run as fast as you can! You can't catch me! I'm the gingerbread man!”

.
“Hansel, I need those deliveries made now!” Hansel's father called to him from the storage room. Hansel slid off the stool at his usual place at the kitchen counter onto his long legs and stretched.

“I'm going,” he said amiably. “Just let me put my books away.” He stuffed his school books in his bag and stowed them under the counter. Snatching up the delivery bag, he trotted out the door and down the road.

It had been the same thing every day since he'd turned twelve – school, homework, deliveries. They'd have to find another delivery boy soon. He was almost finished with school. Getting ready to move on. Onto what, he wasn't sure.

He made his deliveries like every other day until he had just one more left. He leaped up the steps to the plain brown door and knocked. After a moment, the door creaked open. Hansel stared. Suddenly, this door became the most beautiful door to which he had ever delivered for it was behind this door he found the prettiest girl he'd ever seen. He hadn't had a class with her for years. Mary Stubs looked all grown up. With a silly smile on his face, he handed over the box of goodies. Mary smiled in return. She began to say hello when Hansel spotted Mrs. Pollywoggle coming down the street toward them.

“Mrs. Polywoggle!” Hansel exclaimed. With an alarmed look, he ducked inside closing the door rapidly behind him. He turned and was surprised to find Mary right next to him. He thought to himself, Thank you, Mrs. Polywoggle!

.
During the coming months, Mary and Hansel found themselves together often. On one of these meetings, Mary visited Hansel while he was making gingerbread men in the bakery kitchen.

“The gingerbread has become quite popular since you've started making it,” she commented. “In fact, it's becoming so popular that you could open your own shop.”

Hansel looked straight into her eyes and with a sly grin said, “I'd need a partner, someone to run the counter and help with the other chores.”

Mary returned his look and replied quite seriously, “I think I'm up to the task.”

“I'd like to make the arrangement permanent. Are you sure you'd be up for that?” he murmured.

“Does this mean you're finished running and ready to just be the gingerbread man? My gingerbread man?”

“What a good idea. I could go down in history as the gingerbread man. At least, if you'll help me.”