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Once upon a time there was an old woman 

who loved baking gingerbread. She would bake 

gingerbread cookies, cakes, houses and 

gingerbread people, all decorated with 

chocolate and peppermint, caramel candies and 

colored frosting.

She lived with her husband on a farm at the 

edge of town. The sweet spicy smell of 

gingerbread brought children skipping and 

running to see what would be offered that day.

Unfortunately the children gobbled up the treats 

so fast that the old woman had a hard time 

keeping her supply of flour and spices to 

continue making the batches of gingerbread. 

Sometimes she suspected little hands of having 

reached through her kitchen window because 

gingerbread pieces and cookies would 

disappear. One time a whole gingerbread house 

vanished mysteriously. She told her husband, 

"Those naughty children are at it again. They 

don't understand all they have to do is knock 

on the door and I'll give them my gingerbread 

treats."

One day she made a special batch of gingerbread men because 

they were extra big. Unfortunately for the last gingerbread man 

she ran out of batter and he was half the size of the others.

She decorated the gingerbread men with care, each having 

socks, shirt and pants of different colors. When it came to the 

little gingerbread man she felt sorry for him and gave him more 

color than the others. "It doesn't matter he's small," she 

thought, "He'll still be tasty."

Putting the rack on the kitchen windowsill she left it there to cool 

and went to finish her laundry. The gingerbread men lay quietly, 

their frosted eyes gazing at the sky with its puffy clouds.

At that moment a voice came from nowhere. "Get up. Get up. 

Come with me."

Everyone looked to see who was speaking.

It was a butterfly flying just outside the window. Butterflies are 

naturally beautiful, but her wings were an exceptionally pretty 

marbled blue.

"Come with me," she urged again.

The gingerbread men didn't react except to keep staring. All but 

the smallest gingerbread man who jumped up from the tray and 

leaped off the kitchen windowsill onto the grass below faster 

than you could say "hurry."

"Where are we going?" he asked breathlessly.

"Away." And before the butterfly had finished speaking children 

appeared in the yard. Spying the little gingerbread man they 

started shrieking with delight and began chasing him.

"Stop, stop," they shouted. "We want to eat you."

But with his little legs churning the gingerbread man only ran 

faster. He yelled,

"I won't stop.

Run, run as fast as you can.

You can't catch me.

I'm the gingerbread man."

And truly those children could not catch him. Once out of their 

sight he continued running until he had reached a pasture where 

two horses were grazing. He sat down on a rock near the fence.

"Don't stop," said the butterfly fluttering nearby.

"I want to rest," he argued.

That was a mistake as one of the horses trotted over to the 

fence and whinnied. "Oh you smell so good little gingerbread 

man. Come over here so I can smell you better."

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