-that was sorely mistreated.
Initially, she was born to two parents who loved each other and her very much.
Somehow the father was shot, and the mother disappeared – the people feared to find her body in the tall grasses, but hoped that she survived and was hidden.
The little girl was left behind, and the village people took the child to her grandmother, not knowing what kind of violence she had witnessed.
The landlord forced the grandmother to put the baby back out on the street, fearing violence in retribution for the murder. She refused to house the child.
The little girl’s skin started to fall off because of rot in the rains – and the clocks were ticking as the grandmother desperately tried to find a safe place for the child that had to be kept outside in the streets as a warning not to cross the cruel group that harmed her parents.
That was when her grandmother brought her to me.
The little girl looked me up and down. I was small myself.
She had serious eyes and a round hungry belly that watched everything I did carefully.
“Are you a big girl?” I needed to know if she might wet the mattress.
Her little infant frown promised wet drawers in the morning.
“When your grandmother leaves, are you going to cry?” Asked another.
“Yes.” Said the two year old in her vernacular language. “I will cry.” She sucked in her chest heavily, as if ashamed – but was miserably certain of the truth. She was little, and she would cry. Her honesty and maturity were endearing.
We found a small bed for her, and bathed her, and put her into new pajamas and let her fall asleep in the bedroom. Her spirally little hair bounced back from the brush, and was soft and shiny from the coconut oil we added.
We didn’t have too much food to spare, but as she slept, we placed fresh bread around her – so that if she woke up in the night – she could eat.
Like the book “A Little Princess” when she woke up, there it was – a fresh baked bun by her new pink and blue CareBears blanket.
“A bunny! A bunny! A bunny!” Cried the little girl, unable to believe her luck when she woke up – as if it were Christmas morning.
“Aunty, a bunny!” Later, she hugged my legs to show me how wonderful this whole fresh bread “bun-ny” thing was.
So I thought that would be a good story to share with many of our favorite fresh bread recipes – that are easy to make with children – of simple ingredients. Look to the left of the screen to choose a bread recipe to try. We have fun in our little kitchen.
The little girl played with cakes, made holiday ornaments with the salt dough recipe – and some of her favorite cookies are peanut butter cookies.
We hope that every time you enjoy fresh bread, you remember the children of the village.