The Sprinkle That Pointed Up — Behind the flour sacks, Pippa carried one silver sprinkle in a walnut shell. Read the full story →
Behind the flour sacks, Pippa carried one silver sprinkle in a walnut shell. She wanted to tuck it into the sweetest cupcake before the oven clock chimed twelve, but the pantry was dark and smelled of cinnamon, and every cupcake looked like a little snowy hill. The sprinkle had been her grandmother’s measuring mark, not candy at all. When Pippa held it near the cooling tray, it gave a tiny ting-ting and pointed straight up.
“Up there?” Pippa whispered. She climbed the soft green frosting spiral, sticky and cold under her toes, while sugar stars glimmered on the shelves. At the very top, the silver sprinkle clicked into the frosting and shone like it had been waiting. Ever since, when bakers pipe a cupcake into a Christmas tree, they place a star on top so the sweetest one can be found. If you peek among the swirls, can you spot where Pippa’s sprinkle pointed up?
