Happy St. Patrick's Day! 
~Here is a story from the 
Friend for you to enjoy~
 
Sometimes our mistakes turn out to be something grand with just a little bit of Luck!
 
Hope you all have a very lucky day!
 
Twist of Luck
by Florence F. Ruka
   
The wind and snow 
whirling outside the bakery became just a part of the baker’s beautiful 
dream of fortune, as he dozed contentedly next to the warm brick oven.
Suddenly the 
baker’s nose twitched. His eyes flew open. The front legs of the chair 
he was leaning back on hit the floor with a bang!
“Ach du Lieber!” (Oh, dear me!) he exclaimed. “My pretzels! They will be burned!”
He grabbed the 
long-handled baker’s peel (paddle) and hurriedly removed the pretzels 
from the oven. There was a different aroma coming from the little 
knotted pieces of dough he had so carefully prepared and put into the 
oven a short time ago. And the appearance was not quite like the 
breadlike morsels he was used to turning out for Mr. Schnitzel’s bakery.
“Ach! Ach!” moaned the little baker. “Mr. Schnitzel will be angry!”
Quickly he 
gathered the hard little biscuits into a basket and put them by the back
 door. Hastily he began knotting the remaining dough so that he could 
get another batch of pretzels out of the oven before closing time. Mr. 
Schnitzel would soon come in from the front of the bakery with his ring 
of keys and say, “Well, Hermann, did you earn your money today?”
Hermann had just begun cleaning the oven after taking out the new batch, when he heard Mr. Schnitzel at the back door. Oh, dear, worried Hermann. Why is he at the back door today?
 As expected, Mr. Schnitzel boomed, “Well, Hermann, did you earn your 
money today?” Before the baker could answer, the owner asked, “What’s 
this?” Mr. Schnitzel had noticed the basket of overdone pretzels. Anger 
colored his plump cheeks. “Maybe you forgot how to make pretzels after 
all this time? Or maybe you think you can improve on the old monks’ 
way?” (The first pretzels were made by monks as a reward for children 
who learned their prayers. The pretzels were soft and breadlike, and 
they were twisted to represent arms folded in prayer.)
Hermann had not 
meant to offend anyone. Completely miserable, he was certain that the 
price of the wasted ingredients would be taken out of his meager salary.
 He sputtered and stuttered and waved his hands about but could find 
nothing to say.
He watched Mr. 
Schnitzel turn a pretzel over and over with disdain, sniff it, and 
finally take a tiny bite. The crispy morsel broke apart in his hand. He 
chewed a piece, then another. “Hmmmmmm!” he said at last. “This is not 
bad, Hermann. Do you think you could make just one batch like this 
tomorrow? We will see how the customers like crunchy pretzels.”
Hermann nodded 
his head in disbelief as he watched Mr. Schnitzel fill his pockets with 
the toasty pretzels to take home to his wife and children.
As soon as the door closed, Hermann danced a little jig. His luck had turned! He had invented something!
Crispy pretzels 
became a great favorite with everyone, and today there is a wide variety
 of pretzel shapes and sizes and flavorings. The pretiola of the Italian monks has become a treasured snack the world over.