The Bakery Window: A Seattle Child’s Holiday Wish
A young boy lingers outside a storefront, capturing the stark contrast between the city's commercial bustle and the quiet, desperate hope of a child’s holiday.
The story, cleaned up
A cleaned-up reading of the newspaper page: spelling and layout repaired, one story lifted off a crowded page. It follows the original closely but it is not a transcription. The original page is below; read it if a detail matters.
Tommy stood before a bakery window at Front Street, finding it hard work to pray, as his mind wandered off to thoughts of plum pudding and hot mince pies. He stood shivering, his hands deep in his pockets, as he saw the rows of delicious breads and pastries through the glass. Along came the baker. 'Well, what will you buy?' Little Tommy grew red. 'Oh, nothing. I was just thinking, and looking, and wondering if they taste as good as they look; for, oh, if they do, it must be jolly to have them.' Just how it happened, Tom couldn't remember, but one thing he knew: that glad day for him stood out bright in memory, for it gave him a feast of the cakes, the tarts, and the fruit—the good things he longed for, in spite of his empty pockets and tattered coat.
“It was a day of longing, in fact, and he stood before the bakery window, as Tommy had many times before, shivering in his tattered coat, looking at the good things he longed for, in spite of his empty pockets.”
This 1886 scene on Front Street (now First Avenue) mirrors the persistent, painful disparity in Seattle’s rapidly growing economy. Just as the child peered into the window longing for what he could not afford, modern Seattleites face a housing and cost-of-living crisis where the city’s prosperity remains visibly out of reach for many.
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