Stories with Gingerbread

Yes, this post is a shameless promotion. But this is a good book that not enough people are reading to truly appreciate that fact. When I was a boy in the 1960’s, there really was an old German lady who lived in a small tar-papered house, all ginger-brown in color, which we all called the Gingerbread House. She really did love to give out sweets and cookies and popcorn balls to the kids in our town. And she really did love to talk to people and tell them little stories.

Grandma Gretel Stein

Her name, in real life, was Marie Jacobson. She was, in fact, a survivor of the holocaust. She had a tattoo on her right forearm that I saw only one time. Our parents told us what the tattoo meant. But there were no details ever added to the story. Mrs. Jacobson doted on the local children. She regularly gave me chocolate bars just because I held the door for her after church. But she was apparently unwilling to ever talk about World War II and Germany. We were told never to press for answers. There was, however, a rumor that she lost her family in one of the camps. And I have always been the kind that fills in the details with fiction when the truth is out of reach.

I based the character of Grandma Gretel on Mrs. Jacobson. But the facts about her secret life are, of course, from my imagination, not from the truth about Mrs. Jacobson’s real life.

Marie Jacobson cooked gingerbread cookies. I know because I ate some. But she didn’t talk to fairies or use magic spells in cooking. I know because the fairies from the Hidden Kingdom in Rowan disavowed ever talking to any slow one but me. She wasn’t Jewish, since she went to our Methodist Church. She wasn’t a nudist, either. But neither were my twin cousins who the Cobble Sisters, the nude girls in the story, are fifty percent based on. A lot of details about the kids in my book come from the lives of my students in Texas. The blond nudist twins were in my class in the early eighties. And they were only part-time nudists who talked about it more than lived it.

Miss Sherry Cobble, a happy nudist.

But the story itself is not about nudists, or Nazis, or gingerbread children coming to life through magic. The story is about how telling stories can help us to allay our fears. Telling stories can help us cope with and make meaning out of the most terrible things that have happened to us in life. And it is also a way to connect with the hearts of other people and help them to see us for who we really are. And that was the whole reason for writing this book.


Filed under autobiography, fairies, gingerbread, humor, novel, NOVEL WRITING, Paffooney

2 responses to “Stories with Gingerbread

  1. When I was in my early 20s I rented a room in a house in Burbank from a woman who was a concentration camp survivor, complete with the numeric tattoo. And she was a nudist and a young couple who rented another room there were nudists. She had a lovely large pool for the hot days of summer and it was just a few blocks away from work. The neighbors put an end to it when they couldn’t/wouldn’t keep their kids from spying on us by using a hole in the ivy-covered fence to peep on us. (Plug one hole and another would magically appear.)

    We weren’t doing anything illegal but she wasn’t willing to argue with the neighbor, so that came to an end. Eventually, I ended up leaving there when her 14-year-old son took a dislike to me. I never understood why.

    But it might have been for the best. I ended up renting a room from a woman I knew from the past. (I’d shared a townhouse with her current and her ex-boyfriend two years earlier.) It wasn’t long before I’d converted her to an at-home nudist. She actively worked to get me a job at Lockheed and then I met my future wife, her cousin, at a party at her place.

    • Fascinating. Nudism was a thing in Germany in the 1920’s. Prominent German thinkers started a health movement of nude exercise in the sunshine. I did considerable research for the book on that topic.

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