The Cronut Miracle
It all started with a Cronut–the doughnut-crossed-with-a-croissant delicacy that’s taken New York by storm.
Ever since it debuted last year at the Dominique Ansel Bakery, I’ve wanted one. But quantities are limited. You have to get to the bakery very early in the morning, and even then, the line wraps around the block.
Two months ago, though, my sister’s boyfriend, Jeff, managed to get his hands on a few. He offered to give me a precious Cronut, but I’d have to walk to his office, 20 minutes away to pick it up... in the pouring rain. Frizzy hair seemed like a small sacrifice to pay for a Cronut. So, at lunchtime, I grabbed my umbrella–more for the Cronut’s protection than my own!–and set off on my journey. “Wish me luck!” I said to my fellow editors Dan Kessel and Danielle Lyle, who sit next to me. I’d promised them both a piece of the prized pastry once I made my glorious return.
When I arrived at Jeff’s office, I opened the box and took a peek. The Cronut was topped with a bright yellow glaze and a delicate sprinkling of cocoa nib sugar. Beautiful.
“Take a bite!” Jeff said. There was nothing I wanted more, but... what about Dan and Danielle?
“I can’t,” I sighed. “I’m going to share it with my friends at the office.”
He looked shocked. “You do not share a Cronut!”
Jeff had a point. It wasn’t very big, and Dan and Danielle weren’t even doughnut fans. Would they really care? Temptation was staring me in the face, but I’d made a promise. There was no way I could enjoy the Cronut without Dan and Danielle now.
Back at the office, I sliced it up and handed them each a piece. It was unbelievably delicious. Really, I could’ve eaten three whole Cronuts on my own! Oh well, I thought, trying to stop thinking about those flaky, cream-filled layers. A bite is better than nothing.
How right I turned out to be. You see, the next morning, there was a white pastry box sitting on Danielle’s desk. “Guess what I’ve got?” she said, beaming. Mini-cupcakes from her favorite bakery–she’d traveled 45 minutes, all the way uptown, just to get them for Dan and me. Then, a week and a half later, Dan showed up to work carrying a tray of Starbucks coffee. “Coffee’s on me today!” he said. It didn’t end there. Next came my mom’s baklava, Danielle’s special turkey chili, lollipops, nectarines, sandwiches, bananas, even Doritos. It was like a never-ending buffet of food. That one little Cronut fed the three of us for weeks upon weeks.
I was suddenly reminded of Jesus feeding 5,000 with just five loaves of bread and two fish. I’ve always looked at that miracle and thought, Things like that only happen in the Bible–only Jesus can do that. Of course, the Cronut miracle did not approach that in terms of magnitude or wonder. But still, maybe God was trying to tell me something. That a miracle doesn’t have to be as big as feeding thousands or healing the sick. Sometimes a miracle can happen in the simplest of ways, just by sharing a lunchtime snack. And everyone, when acting out of love, can produce miracles for one another.
Thanks to that delicious pastry, I now show up to work every week not knowing what I might find waiting for me at my desk. What will the Cronut miracle lead to next? Stay tuned!
Have you ever sacrificed something small with miraculous results? Share your story below!
As we celebrate Valentine’s Day, here’s proof that God is the ultimate romantic.
Faith in a mother’s love miraculously brings a Felix the Cat clock back to life.