The Donut Shop of Life

Some of us are not wired like the rest of the flock. To put it mildly, we march to the beat of a different conga drum. We seek acceptance from others; nonetheless, others do not feel the need to seek acceptance from us. I reckon it is like being a pastry in the donut shop showcase. If you don’t fit the mold in this world, you can’t be a donut. The best you can hope for is to be a donut hole. Well fuck all that! I’m a cinnamon roll and have no wish to be a donut! In a world of donuts, a cinnamon roll trying to become a frosted old fashion wants acceptance. But it will only get laughed at by the chocolate sprinkles. The rude bastards!

So, what’s a cinnamon roll to do? Sitting there alone on its singular tray, it ponders being a donut. Seemingly the most loved of all the pastries for its vast popularity. Looking across the grand showcase, it observes all of its brethren. Seeing past the vast majority of donuts with their fancy glaze and molten coats. Covered in a rainbow of sprinkles and sparkly confections to dazzle the eye. A box of donut holes is spied somewhere off in the distance, on the bottom shelf. The heart of the donut that has been cut out, cast aside and sold for cheap. A feeling of compassion sweeps over the cinnamon roll for all of the donuts and their mutilated hearts.

The cinnamon roll has realized the truth. It is a pastry but, also a cinnamon roll. It can never be a donut. As the cinnamon roll has studied all of the baker’s other creations. It has seen each one is unique in its own way. Apple fritters and maple bars are joined by the jelly filled and muffins. Along come the ham-n-cheese stuffed croissants and their family of turkey-n-cheese stuffed or plain. There are twisted and creamed, cookies and buns, so many types to choose from. The cinnamon roll acknowledges some of the other pastries are whole, like itself. They do not have discarded parts sold for cheap. It is not alone after all. So, it decides to be the best cinnamon roll it can be.

About this time a tall ginger man with thick spectacles strolls into the shop. It is Saturday morning; the man is here for the assorted baker dozen of donuts his family has asked for. The man picks from the different selections, and the baker puts thirteen donuts into the large pink box. The cinnamon roll sees the box is full. Trying not to be sad, it continues to follow the ginger man’s gaze. The man, with his magnified glasses, spies the donut holes. He says to himself, “those would be a tasty snack on the drive home.” Still, he continues to look. Walking to the other end of the counters glass enclosure of pastries, the man’s gaze falls to the cinnamon roll. He exclaims to the baker, “WOW, that cinnamon roll looks just like the ones my great grandmother made! It reminds me of the cinnamon rolls I had as a boy”. With a smile on his face the man tells the baker, “I’ll take that cinnamon roll right there”. Pointing and adding, “no need for a box, I will eat it on the drive home”. Finally chosen, the cinnamon roll is handed to the man. Its purpose finished, the cinnamon roll is happy to be consumed by the one that needed so it much.

You see, the cinnamon roll was not meant to be eaten. It was meant to be cherished, loved and accepted. Consumption is just the inevitable outcome of a pastry. As in all life, death is certain. We already know that death comes at the end life. So, there has to be a place between birth and death we all fit into. Our purpose if you will. The cinnamon roll’s purpose was to remind the ginger man of love. A love he shared with another through the gift of a pastry. In every bite of the cinnamon roll, the man remembers the gift from great grandma. A gift he is now inspired to share with his children. Giving them a newfound love for the cinnamon roll. The children realize there is more to a pastry than a donut with a hole where its heart should be. Much, much more. In doing this, the cinnamon roll has found its rightful place as a pastry. Also, the children have discovered a diverse acceptance of life.

After reading this, you are probably hungry. I know I am from writing it. As you probably guessed, my great grandma used to make me cinnamon rolls. So, the craving had begun. But, before we go off fulfilling the destiny of the next thing we are going to eat, chew on this. As everyone is different, we are all the same. We are all human, or pastries if you prefer (you know you’re out there!). Some seemingly have it all, while others are living under a bridge in poverty. Here we see an extreme difference in humanity. Yet, we are all human. All having a unique purpose in the donut shop of life. Try to follow the example of the cinnamon roll. View life with compassion and understanding. Avoid focusing on every flashy point of the majority. Instead look to your sweet and snappy inner self and bake it to perfection. Agape, Anthony Jumeaux.