The Baker’s Window

Every morning, before the sun even touched the rooftops, Mrs. Lan opened her little bakery on the corner of Thu Street. She was small, round, and quiet, with silver hair always tied neatly behind her head. Her shop smelled of fresh bread and sugar warm, comforting, and somehow nostalgic, even for those who had never been there before.

Across the street lived a girl named Linh, about ten years old. She walked to school every day past the bakery window, where the display gleamed with golden loaves and soft pastries. She never went in, but she always stopped to look. And Mrs. Lan always waved.

One cold morning, Mrs. Lan noticed the girl’s shoes were worn thin, her socks damp from the rain. Linh still smiled and waved, but the baker felt a tug in her heart. That evening, when the shop closed, Mrs. Lan baked one extra loaf small, sweet, with a heart drawn in flour on top.

The next day, she left it by the window with a note:
*“For the girl with the brave smile.”*

Linh found it on her way to school. She looked around, then peeked through the glass. Mrs. Lan was behind the counter, pretending not to notice. The girl grinned, mouthed “thank you,” and hurried off.

From that day, the routine continued. Some mornings, there would be a small pastry wrapped in paper with Linh’s name written in sugar. Some afternoons, Linh would leave a folded drawing taped to the window pictures of the bakery, of loaves with smiling faces, of Mrs. Lan herself wearing a chef’s hat far too big.

Winter passed into spring. One morning, the bakery stayed closed. The sign read: *“Temporarily closed for health reasons.”* Linh stood outside for a long time, holding her schoolbag tight.

After two weeks, the window lit up again. Mrs. Lan looked thinner, her hair more silver than before, but her eyes still kind. On the window sill lay a small paper bag. This time, it wasn’t for Linh it was from her. Inside was a handmade card drawn in bright crayons.
It said: *“For Mrs. Lan, who makes mornings smell like happiness.”*

Mrs. Lan smiled, tears in her eyes. She looked across the street, where Linh stood waving shyly. She raised the card in return, pressing it to her chest.

Years later, when Linh grew up and the bakery changed hands, the new owner kept one thing exactly as it was the drawing framed by the window. The edges had faded, but the message still glowed in childish handwriting, like a promise baked into the heart of the shop.

*Sometimes kindness doesn’t ask for attention. It just lingers, like the smell of bread in the morning air.*