Fiction
The Good Gingerbread Man
A Christmas tale for children
Thursday
“But Daddy, I don’t wanna go up to the scaaaaary Gingerbread Man!”
Hunter slid behind his father’s left leg. He poked his head out and stared at the zipped-up creature who was looking down on him. He wrapped his arms tight around both of Daddy’s legs.
The Gingerbread Man had a coat of soft brown fur that looked warm and cosy. But he had fly-like eyes about half as big as his head. The eyes were made of tiny cells and had a black border. Like the thick stuff Mommy puts around her eyes, Hunter thought. Above the Gingerbread Man’s eyes were purple arched lines for eyebrows. Below, a thick black-bordered red outline like the mouth of the IT clown that Hunter saw on a T-shirt once — the one that gave him nightmares.
The Gingerbread Man held out a Goodfellows’ newspaper in one hand. He held his other hand out to Hunter, like someone taking a chance on petting a bad dog.
“Ho, ho, ho! How are you?” he said.
Hunter was about to bolt but Daddy reached out one arm to hold him tight against his legs.
“This is all I have,” Daddy said. He placed a dime and a couple of nickels into the Gingerbread Man’s gloved mitts.
“Merry Christmas! Thank you and you too little guy!” the Gingerbread Man reached out again with his free hand after handing over a paper to Daddy.
“Eeeee!” Hunter let go of Daddy’s legs and ran to the car in the parking lot. A pickup truck had to stop hard and Hunter ignored the loud horn as he ran to Daddy’s car.
“Hunter, hold up!” Daddy was breathing hard after catching up with his boy. “You scared me. You almost got hit by a car!”
Hunter squeezed between his father and the car and looked back at the Gingerbread Man.
“He won’t hurt you, buddy. He’s just trying to sell newspapers so they can buy food to help people who can’t afford it. They’re Goodfellows, Hunter. He’s a good man. A good Gingerbread Man.”
Hunter reached out both hands to grab the back door of Daddy’s car and pulled up hard on the handle, trying to force it open.
“Okay, okay, easy does it,” Daddy said. “Let me open it for you.”
Daddy buckled in his boy and got into the front seat. He went to start the car that huffed and puffed before he could drive away slowly out of the shopping mall parking lot. “Blue Christmas” was playing on the radio.
“Extra, extra! Read all about the Goodfellows!” the Gingerbread Man said, one arm in the air as cars passed him on the right and left. He looked back at the little boy and his father as they drove away. In the back window of their car was a sign:
“I hope something good happens to you today.”
“Hunter’s worrying me,” Mommy told Daddy later that night.
She had just settled down Hunter for the night after Daddy put baby Jesse to bed earlier. Mommy sang lullabies to Hunter, “Lavender’s Blue (Dilly Dilly)” and “Lemon Tree.” She used to sing the songs to Daddy when they were younger and dating. They were like silly sad love songs and she also sang them for Hunter after reading him bedtime stories.
“What are you worried about?” Daddy said.
“He just seems angry and jumpity all the time. And I’m worried he will hurt someone, like another child at school.”
“Hunter? Hey, I know he’s high-energy but c’mon — he’s only four!”
“I just think we have to make sure he controls his anger and learns how to be kind and share with other kids. Also to know that he can’t have it all.”
Daddy was silent. He was writing down numbers on a sheet of paper next to lot of bills on the table.
“Christmas is around the corner y’know,” Mommy said. “Hunter keeps asking for a Ruko smart robot. That’s selling for almost $200 on Amazon! We can’t afford that — especially now.”
“I know that.”
“Not with you losing your job in the new year. It’s hard enough now just making ends meet with my two part-time jobs.”
Daddy shut down his calculator and placed his glasses on the table. He pinched his eyes tight and rubbed them with two fingers.
“Things will work out. We’re not the only ones. It’s on the streets y’know. People begging for money, people living in cardboard boxes.”
Mommy didn’t say anything.
“The Goodfellows started their campaign this year, selling newspapers to raise money to help people. The demand is greater this year than ever and they’re doing the best they can. We ran into one of them today — a guy dressed as a Gingerbread Man.”
“I know that. Hunter told me. He was scared to death! Said he looked like a giant brown fly.”
Daddy smirked then got serious, remembering how close Hunter came to getting hit by a car.
“I tried to talk to him about that. I told him he was a good Gingerbread Man who was trying to do good things for people.”
“Did he ask you for money — the Gingerbread Man?” Mommy asked.
“I gave him some.”
“Really? Like we can afford to be donating money.”
“It was only a few coins. Nothing really — or a little. Every little bit helps. A little kindness can go a long way. From each according to his ability to each according to his needs.”
“Yeah, well, the way things are going we’ll be on that Goodfellows’ list too before you know it.”
Hunter woke up screaming later that night. In his dreams, he was chased by flowers and fruits of blue and green and yellow. He ran into the arms of a big brown fly-eyed creature who bent down to try to eat him.
Then Jesse started crying and Mommy went to his crib to pick him up. Daddy went into Hunter’s room and tried to hug him but his boy squirmed and squealed in his arms. Hunter would fall asleep about 15 minutes later in a tired stupor.
Friday
School days were always a crazy busy time in Hunter’s home. Daddy rushed out to work. Mommy rushed around and was busy feeding baby, Jesse, and dressing Hunter for school before she could get ready to go to work herself later in the morning.
Hunter made it harder by refusing to eat his Cheerios.
“But I don’t want them!” he said knocking the bowl off the table and splashing the milk and cereal on to Mommy who was feeding Jesse from a bottle. The baby started crying and Mommy tried hard not to get angry while cleaning up the mess and feeding Jesse.
“Hunter, you have to eat. You’ll be hungry at school.”
“I want cookies and lickrish! I want cookies and lickrish!” Hunter said.
“Sorry sweetie but those are treats. You get them after you eat a healthy breakfast.”
“But I don’t wanna helltee breakfash. I want cookies and lickrish!”
Mommy managed to finish feeding Jesse and bundled both kids for the cold walk to Hunter’s school. She would explain to Miss Christine that her boy refused to eat and would she mind serving him a hot breakfast again?
“Thank God it’s Friday,” she mumbled during the walk, her breath clouding out into the cold winter air.
“Children, we’re going to read a Christmas classic today!” Miss Christine said. “And if you’re really good boys and girls, you’ll get to see a movie about it later. It’s called How the Grinch Stole Christmas.”
“Yay!” screamed the children in Miss Christine’s class. Hunter’s voice was the loudest. The Grinch was his favourite Christmas character.
“The Grinch is a story about being kind and how Christmas means more than presents. It’s a story about the true Christmas spirit which is about love and spending time with people you care about. Like your mommies and daddies and brothers and sisters and friends! Now let’s all gather around in a story circle and I’ll read you the story of How the Grinch Stole Christmas.”
Hunter pushed out his elbows and forced his way past all the children to the top of the circle. He wanted to be in front of Miss Christine when she started to read.
Hunter’s best friend lived next door to Mother Theresa Catholic Elementary School so he was allowed to walk there alone at the end of the day and stay till Mommy picked him up. He was wearing his reindeer antlers over his toque — ’cause they were like the ones the Grinch put on his little dog.
Bobby’s home had a cool porch that was as long as his house was wide. The two boys spent a lot of time playing with their toys there during good weather. Hunter walked up to the door and pressed the bell which rang out with a Christmas carol melody.
Behind him, he heard a rustling sound and something that sounded like an engine — a little like Daddy’s car when he tried to start it. Hunter turned around and saw a big brown plastic thing that took up his friend’s whole front yard. It started to jiggle and wriggle around before coming to life and growing bigger. And bigger. And BIGGER!
Hunter looked up and saw it — a giant Gingerbread Man! It twisted and twirled in the cold winter wind while the engine kept it up in the air. As it turned around once more the Gingerbread man seemed to topple forward toward Hunter. That was all it took.
“Eeee!” the boy screamed and ran down the length of Bobby’s porch. Hunter leaped off the end of the porch over a small bush and fence near the house next door and then ran to the street. A car swerved to miss him. The driver blasted his horn and screamed at Hunter but he was already out of sight. The boy ran back to the small trail that led to his school to see if he could find his way back home. Lucky for Hunter, Miss Christine was in the schoolyard and saw him. She brought him back into the school and waited with him till Mommy came to pick him up.
Bobby, meanwhile, answered the door to find no one outside. Just the giant Gingerbread Man.
At home later, Hunter was restless. He had been running around and around and around the kitchen and living room after school with a silver garland he pulled from the Christmas tree that he waved in the air like a flag. Mommy got him to stop and he watched some TV with Jesse but Hunter was bored now.
Hunter looked out to see if Mommy had eyes on him. She was busy in the kitchen cooking dinner so he went up to Jesse who was in his baby chair in front of the TV.
Hunter lifted one leg up while still looking toward the kitchen and then stomped his foot down on his baby brother’s belly.
“Waaaahhh!” Jesse screamed as Mommy ran into the living room, leaving behind the boiling pot of water on the stove.
“Hunter! What did you do?”
Hunter’s bottom lip quivered and his eyes welled with tears. He brought his tiny fists up to his face and rubbed his eyes while Mommy picked up Jesse and rocked him in her arms.
“No, it’s okay honey. It’s okay. Mommy didn’t mean to yell at you. I was just scared for your baby brother. You can hurt him — you’re much bigger than he is.”
Mommy reached down with one free arm to bring Hunter close to her leg while trying to still Jesse’s wails.
Daddy would be home soon, but not soon enough for Mommy. Jesse finally stopped crying and Mommy put him back into his chair.
“C’mon with me to the kitchen Hunter and you can watch me cook. You can tell me all about what happened today — what scared you and made you run away from Bobby’s house.”
Hunter’s tiny body shook and his face trembled. His face turned red. He could not get the words out to tell Mommy about the scary Gingerbread Man.
“Honey, what’s wrong?” Mommy asked. “You look like you saw a ghost. Tell me what’s scaring you.”
From the other room, Hunter heard something on the TV about the new Ruko robot and ran out of the kitchen.
“Roooookooooo!” he screamed. He threw his arms in the air and closed his fists, robot-like.
“Santa’s gonna gimme one for Cwismas!” he said. “I put Roooko on my list.”
“Sweetie, I know you want that toy but maybe Santa won’t be able to bring it to you this time,” Mommy said. “Santa says there are lots of boys and girls who don’t have clothes and food and he’s very busy trying to help them. You may have to be patient and wait a little bit.”
Hunter’s bottom lip quivered and his eyes watered again. He screamed, kicked at Jesse’s chair and ran to his room while his baby brother started wailing again.
The front door opened and Daddy walked in to catch all the chaos.
“Hey honey. Did I miss all the fun?”
It’s a good thing Mommy was holding the baby.
Hunter woke up screaming again that night.
He dreamed of the Gingerbread Man forcing him to eat a lemon but also of Mommy singing “dilly dilly” and holding him tight in a field of lavenders.
Saturday
For the Gingerbread Man, it was the best of alms, it was the worst of alms. It was the season of saints and sinners on the streets.
He was out for the third day selling Goodfellows’ newspapers. He found a new spot and hoped to sell more papers.
Some people were very kind and generous. One woman pulled up in her car and reached into her purse for $50. She had plastic tubes in her nose and made noises breathing.
Another woman stopped to take money out of her purse. A man in a big truck behind her honked his horn to get her to move. The woman gave $20 and told the Gingerbread Man, “I already have a paper. I gave some money earlier. I just wanted to give more.”
One man asked how much the paper cost.
“Whatever you can give,” the Gingerbread Man said.
The man handed him a quarter and smiled.
Another man gave $5. He looked at his Goodfellows’ paper and said, “There’s not much in the paper anymore eh.”
The Gingerbread Man thought, “Does he know this is a special edition Goodfellows’ paper? It’s always been this small.”
The cold of late November was creeping in behind the Gingerbread Man’s brown suit and his fingers and toes were feeling stiff. He tried to stay warm by walking up and down the line between cars that kept driving past him.
“Extra, extra! Read all about the Goodfellows!” he shouted, his arm raised high.
The car that passed him on the right looked familiar. A dark green small sedan with lots of rust and a noisy engine. Then he saw the sign on the window and remembered.
In the back seat, he saw the boy again. Hunter had turned around in his seat and looked back at the Gingerbread Man. Next to him was his baby brother in his car seat and in front was Daddy and Mommy.
Hunter’s eyes were wide with fright. The Gingerbread Man smiled even though he knew the boy would not be able to see that.
Daddy turned at the next stop into a parking spot and stopped his car. He turned around to face Hunter.
“Son, don’t be afraid of the Gingerbread Man. He’s good. He wants to help people.”
“Mmmmm,” Hunter said, his lips trying to form a word.
“Remember the Grinch? You said he’s the best. Remember how bad he looked at first but then how good he was at the end?”
“Mmmmhhmmmm,” Hunter said. He looked over his shoulder at the Gingerbread Man on the road.
“Listen to Daddy sweetie,” Mommy said.
“Do you want to come with me and try to talk to the Gingerbread Man again?” Daddy said.
“Nooooo!” Hunter screamed, looking back at Daddy. Tears of fright welled up in his eyes.
“Okay, okay. You can stay here safe with Mommy. I’ll just go up to the Gingerbread Man and you can see that it’s okay.”
Hunter looked on in horror as Daddy got out of the car and walked to the middle of the road where the Gingerbread Man stood. Daddy talked to him for a long time and Hunter could not believe that the big fly-eyed monster with the killer clown mouth didn’t eat him. Hunter was too scared to even scream.
Daddy came back to the car and got into his seat. He looked back and smiled.
“See Hunter. The Gingerbread Man is a good Goodfellow. Why, he even said he could come over to our house and say hi.”
“No. No. No! Noooooo!” Hunter yelled. Daddy turned around, started the car and took the family to the food market.
That night, Hunter had a new kind of dream.
Ruko’s big robot feet were moving along on the road. He went up to the Gingerbread Man and lifted one arm. He made a tight fist with his blue-gloved hand at the Gingerbread Man who handed him something. Ruko opened his hand, grabbed the thing the Gingerbread Man gave him, turned around and marched back to the sidewalk. The Gingerbread Man waved at Ruko as he left.
This time, Hunter did not wake up screaming.
Sunday
Hunter was drinking his apple juice from his sippy cup at the kitchen table when he heard Daddy and Mommy talking in the next room.
“It was in the mailbox,” Mommy said. She handed over a letter to Daddy.
“Hello,” Daddy read:
“Please accept this gift from us.
“Remember that Christmas is about kindness and caring for your fellow man — and woman! It’s about guiding a neighbour who needs a helping hand. It’s about hope.
“The Goodfellows wish you a very merry Christmas and a happy new year.
“And for the little guy, I’ll be talking to Santa about Ruko.
“Ho, ho, ho!
GM.”
“There’s a food voucher and information about how we can collect a Christmas box,” Daddy said.
Hunter heard Mommy crying. He got out of his chair to look but she was smiling and hugging Daddy.
This story is dedicated to the Windsor Goodfellows. For 113 years, a group of dedicated volunteers fan out across the city selling special edition copies of the Windsor Star’s annual Goodfellows paper to support food programs and fund other projects to help people in need.
The 2023 Goodfellows’ newspaper campaign raised a record $403,000. But even with the generosity of the community and success of that effort, the Goodfellows face a daunting task in meeting the needs of their fellow citizens. Their client base is growing and food costs have climbed drastically this year.
Yet they keep hitting the streets, living up to the code laid down by Angus Munro in December 1959 that says: “The best of life and worth of it is not how much can I get for me, but what have I done to be neighbourly.”
On Saturday, Nov. 25, 2023, I was one of the Goodfellows out on the streets selling newspapers. I was dressed as a Gingerbread Man.
That much of the story is true. The rest is all made up. Well, most of it.
Claudio D’Andrea has been writing and editing for newspapers, magazines and online publications for more than 30 years. You can read his stuff on LinkedIn and Medium.com and follow him on Twitter (now X).
