Once not too long ago there was an eminently sensible pony named Clyde. He had a daughter pink as a peony and as flighty and whimsical as her father was sensible. Naturally he tried to steer her whimsy where such imagination and creativity might be useful…baking, for example. And many a dessert had proved the decision a good one.
But not every dessert…
One day Clyde was coming home from making the quartz grow tall and straight when he heard the crash of a window breaking and saw a tiny brown pony speed off his property like the wind was in his hooves.
“Run, Gallop, Trot
It’s useless of course,
You can’t catch me,
I’m the Gingerbread Horse.” The tiny pony cackled as it ran.
Clyde watched the little creature speed off his property…and promptly ignored it to go find his daughter.
His daughter sat in the kitchen holding an empty baking pan, her face forlorn and confused. “Oh Papa, I don’t know what happened!” she cried, “One minute I had made a dessert the whole family was sure to love…and the next it was GONE and the window was broken!”
Clyde sat down next to his daughter and held her close, “Don’t worry none about that stupid cookie…it’s covered in dirt and mud by now anyway. The real question is…can you make it again?”
It turned out, yes, yes she could. And while this second cookie didn’t come to life, it did taste good. Gingerbread became Clyde’s favorite dessert ever after.
The moral of the story is: A miracle repeated is a welcome luxury.