are to follow four principles in the operation of your business,” he instructed. “One: good quality food is to be prepared and sold. Two: each person you employ is to be fairly paid. Three: all bills for purchases by the bakery are to be paid weekly. Four: every person who walks through the bakery door is to be treated with dignity and respect.”
Remarkably, Mr. Joy refused any profit from the businesses that he helped establish.
“I am rich,” he said. “I take no pleasure in hoarding and have more than enough to ensure comfort for the rest of my life. I would be ashamed to touch what has been earned through the hard labour of another man.”
“What is your motive in this?” he was once asked.
“Always fishing for motives when they are right on the surface,” Mr. Joy responded. “The motive is plain. To make people useful and happy. It brings me great pleasure to see people who are achieving the most that they can out of their natural abilities. I do not believe in the Bible as the absolute word of God, and I am particularly suspicious of those who seek to impose their own interpretation of the Bible upon us. But I do believe that we should do unto others as we would wish them to do unto us were we in their shoes.”
Christopher and Ruby returned to the bakery at ten o’clock on the day after we met.
“Good morning, little one,” I addressed the child. “You look fresher today than a spring flower.”
She smiled. No view in England was as enticing.
I gave them bread, coffee, and milk, as I had done the day before.
At eleven o’clock, Octavius Joy arrived. He was a man of sixty, portly with a round, good-humoured, benevolent face that was full of life and radiated an almost innocent happiness that would have been delightful in a child and was particularly appealing in a man his age. His cheeks were rosy, a colour occasioned in part by the cold. His hair was a silvered grey. Looking at him, one might have forgotten for a moment that there was such a thing as a sour mind or a crabbed countenance in the world.
We sat at the table in back. Mr. Joy looked at Ruby through gold-rimmed spectacles and patted her on the head.
“What is your name, my dear?”
“Ruby.”
“A very pretty name.” Then he turned in my direction. “Perhaps Ruby would like another piece of bread and some strawberry jam.”
I excused myself from the table and returned with the offering. Ruby’s eyes took on a questioning look.
“When one is starving, jam is a luxury beyond reach,” Christopher said. “She has never seen jam before.”
“Eat,” he told Ruby. “You will like it.”
Ruby cautiously took a bite . . . Tasted the jam on her tongue . . . And her face lit up.
This was a child who, for her entire life, had eaten only to survive. Mother’s milk in her first year. Then bread, gruel, and an occasional potato, green leaf, or piece of cheese. Now, for the first time, she was experiencing food as pleasure rather than just for sustenance.
“Good!” she cried out. “Good! Good!”
Octavius Joy laughed. Then he turned to Christopher.
“Antonio visited me last night and told me of your circumstances. Tell me your history in your own words.”
There was something so earnest in the way this was said and with such disregard of the class differences between them that Christopher felt at ease. He spoke. Mr. Joy listened attentively and, when the narrative was done, put his hand on Christopher’s shoulder.
“Let me make an offer to you, something that may change your life for the better. I have made it my concern to place men and women who come from hard origins in situations where they can live decently as a consequence of their own honest labour. One of the people I assisted in this manner is a woman named Marie Wells. Marie and her husband were the proprietors of a bakery in a nearby part of London. Mr. Wells died suddenly four weeks ago. Marie is a good woman and in need of help. There is a job for you at the bakery. You and Ruby would live there. You would have food to eat, a small salary, and a home.”
Christopher seemed at a loss for words.
“I would like that very much,” he said at last.
“And there is another condition of your employment. You and Ruby must learn to read.”
“It is my dream that Ruby learn to read and write. But for me, it is beyond my comprehension.”
“At the moment, it is also beyond Ruby’s comprehension. That will change for both of you. Reading will come more easily to her because she is young and will be without the fear that you bring to the adventure. But what a child can learn, you can learn too.”
“And if I cannot?”
“When the opportunity presents itself, learning to read is a responsibility that you have to yourself. Learning to read is like entering a dark room and lighting a candle. It will light the fire of your imagination. You need not learn to read well, only as well as honest effort on your part allows.”
“I will try.”
“Then it is settled. Marie must first approve of you, but I think she will. She needs a man’s help in the bakery, and she has long wanted a child in her life. I spoke with her this morning. She is expecting our visit now.”
The most common form of public transportation in London is the omnibus. The public gets on and off as the vehicle is drawn along its route by horses. Hackney coach stands offer licensed public cabs for those who prefer their own coach and driver.
Mr. Joy summoned a hackney coach. Christopher, Ruby, and I joined him inside.
“We are going to meet a very nice woman named Marie,” Mr. Joy told Ruby. “Last night, Antonio told Marie that you are very nice, and she would like to meet you.”
The cold of the previous day had lifted a bit. Mr. Joy and Ruby got along exceedingly well as the carriage clattered through the streets of London. Of course, Mr. Joy got along exceedingly well with everyone. Fifteen minutes after our ride began, we arrived at Marie’s bakery.
I have known Marie for many years. She is two years younger than I am and one of the kindest people I know. Anyone who casts even a casual glance upon her can discern that she has a loving heart. Her serene blue eyes and gentle face bespeak her nature. She has the good opinion and respect of all who know her.
Mr. Joy introduced Christopher to Marie, and she explained the operation of the bakery to him in simple terms. Then she and Ruby played together.
“You and the child are to be here tomorrow morning with all of your belongings,” Mr. Joy told Christopher at day’s end.
Marie added a promise to that instruction.
“If you live in my home, Ruby will have the best of care and the most love that I can give her.”
The
