Karmic Cookies

In a small, yet bustling town, off of a parkway of Kentucky, there was a rather popular bakery, KarMa's Cakes. The owner, Freida, and her daughter, Karina, ran this bakery together now, going on 15 years. Before Karina came on full time, Freida's husband, Marc ran it with her for another 10 years. When Karina was little, of course she would help out, but as children will do, they will grow, and move away, go to college, do all those things that children want to do. But finally, she decided to come home. Home is where the magic always seemed to happen.

KarMa's Cakes was known for many things. They made the most exquisite pastries, the most decorative cakes, the lightest donuts. But the confection that put them on the map was their cookies. What people didn't understand about the cookies was there was a secret to them. They were baked on rocks from the Lilajan River. This family had traveled all over the world. They'd seen the good and bad of humanity. They were no strangers to what the world held upon its lands and within its seas. They had experienced many an adventure. They had settled in Kentucky, with its lush green foliage, its welcoming people, its nice semi-mild winters, and its crisp, clean fall air. It may have seemed strange to their family and friends at home in Scandinavia, but they were at home wherever they were together.

As they always did at 3:30 a.m., they were starting their daily routine of bringing the doughs out of the refrigerator for the donuts and breads, to shape and get into the proofer, they heard the phone ring. "Who in the world would be calling already," said Freida. "No clue, Ma," said Karina. They didn't answer it. There was far too much to do. They continued with their work. The phone continued to ring 2, 3, 4 times. Still, they continued with their work. Then, they hear a knock on their door. It wasn't a regular knock. It was a frantic, panicking knock. Freida and Karina looked at each other with surprise and both went running toward the door. They saw the person standing outside the door, but neither recognized the man. They weren't willing to open the door, as it was 4 a.m., still dark outside, and they didn't know this person. What ever could they want? The man was a hulk of a man. He was about 6 feet, 5 inches, barrel-chested, wearing a tight t-shirt, blue jeans, white tennis shoes and a baseball cap. But the man was crying. "Could he really be a threat? He's crying, Ma," says Karina. "He could be drunk," replied Freida. Freida tapped on the door, as the man had put his head against the glass of the door as he sobbed. He looked up slowly, and held his hands together as if pleading to come inside. Freida yelled, "What do you want? Why are you here at 4 a.m.? We don't open for another 2 hours." The man held up a bag of cookies that came from her store and a piece of paper for her to read. Freida opened the door to let him in. Karina stood and stared in shock. "Ma, what are you doing? Don't let him in here. You don't know him."

Freida led the man to the back room where she pulled out a chair and told him to sit. She poured him a cup of coffee and got him a couple of donuts left from the day before. The man didn't care. He was in distress. Freida looked down at the man and she said, "Okay, so tell me, what happened?" The man shamefully put down his donut and stared up at the motherly figure and again started to cry, "I came in here yesterday, and I was on my way to pick up my little girl from her mother's house. We share custody. I wanted to get her something, so I stopped in here to get her some cookies. I've heard these are the best. I got a phone call from her mother while I was checking out. She said I couldn't come get her, she'd changed her mind. I couldn't go get my daughter for the weekend. I wished bad things would happen to her mother. I paid for the cookies and I left." "That still doesn't explain why you are here," Karina blurted out. Freida smiled. "He's here because the cookies heard him." Karina looked stunned. "WHAT? The cookies did WHAT? They heard him? Ma, are you sure you're not drunk?" Freida gave her daughter a stern look that Karina knew better than to cross. "So tell me, what happened?" The man then went on to tell her how his words had backfired. The piece of paper he was holding was the child's mother's battle for full custody. The thought that he had, had come back to haunt him. He'd also remembered his friend telling him about coming into the bakery as a kid and whether it be good or bad, whatever he thought or said, especially when buying the cookies, it came back to him. Karina laughed. "Ma, that letter had to have been in the mail long before he got those cookies." "That may be true, Karina, but what you put out into the world eventually comes back around to you. And many times you think it will never happen to you. But I'm telling you, the cookies can hear you. You don't believe me, give it a try. Go say something negative, you'll get it back. Go ahead." Karina just stood there, staring at her mother, unsure whether to believe her or not. "Not really sure are you? That tells me you are not brave enough to disbelieve what I tell you. Smart girl. You know I would not tell you this if it were not true." The man clears his throat, "So, how can I fix this?" Freida once again looks down at the man with a warm smile, "You must put positivity into the world. You must prove that you are worthy of custody of your child. You must prove that you are not a negative person. I cannot do this. Only you can do this. The universe is always listening, not just the cookies. It just so happens that on that particular day, the cookies were listening. Be mindful of the things you put out into the world. They matter." The man put his head down. "This is going to be difficult. I've had such a rough life. I've never had anything handed to me." Freida then said, "Our family came from nothing. We moved many times with only the clothes we were wearing, working where we lived to pay for our next ticket to the next country until we finally got here, to America. We wanted to travel. So we did. We weren't wealthy. We weren't born into a great family. We all have our past indiscretions. It's how you come back that makes you who you are." The man finished his donut and coffee, gave Freida a side hug and thanked her. After he left Karina looked at her mother as they were finishing their duties in the bakery to get everything on display for the morning and she asked, "Was that for real? In all my years working here, I've never seen anything like that. That can't be real." Freida looked at her daughter, smirked, "You didn't know your mother was selling Karmic Cookies, did you? Wake up, girl!" Freida laughed haughtily as she went to the back of the store while Karina served the first customer of the morning.