Margaret Mahy by Tessa Duder

Author:Tessa Duder
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2012-02-15T16:00:00+00:00

There was once a wonderful baby. The cat thought she was wonderful. The fish thought she was wonderful. The bird thought she was wonderful and her mother and father thought she was wonderful. And the baby knew she was wonderful.

Or, for the emerging reader, The Cake, a Shortland’s Jellybean reader that elevated cake-making into an existential discussion on identity crisis.

The Cake

Mary’s mother put some sugar into a bowl.

‘What’s happening?’ thought the sugar. ‘A moment ago I was sitting around with the rest of the sugar in the sugar-pot. Now I have been chosen for something. I must be special and this must be a special day.’

Then Mary’s mother put some butter in with the sugar.

‘Hello!’ cried the sugar. ‘I can tell we’re going to be friends.’

‘How sweet of you,’ the butter said admiringly.

Mary’s mother turned on the electric mixer.

Whirrrrr! went the mixer.

‘Listen!’ cried the butter, ‘they’re playing our tune.’

‘Shall we dance?’ asked the sugar.

The butter and the sugar danced together until they were so mixed up you couldn’t tell where the butter left off and the sugar began.

Mary’s mother beat up some eggs and put them into the bowl.

‘The more the merrier!’ cried the butter and the sugar. ‘Another friend to dance with. Let’s crack a few yolks.’

The butter and the eggs and the sugar danced together.

Down came a soft rain.

‘Hello everyone! Here I am!’ said the flour.

‘I’m here too!’ cried a funny little voice. It was the baking powder.

The mixer sang its whirring song and everyone danced together.

‘Why are we here?’ the butter asked the flour.

‘Who invited us?’ asked the baking powder.

‘Something very exciting is going to happen and we have been specially chosen,’ said the flour.

Down came the currants, the raisins and the cherries.

‘Don’t forget us,’ they cried.

‘What are we doing here?’ asked a cheery cherry.

‘There must be a reason,’ declared a raisin.

Whiizzz! went the electric mixer. Then they were all turned upside down.

‘Let me help you out?’ offered the kindly wooden spoon.

‘Let me take you in,’ cried the round baking tin.

‘I’ll give you a warm welcome,’ said the oven.

They were all put into the oven together.

‘It’s dark in here,’ said the eggs.

‘Warm too!’ yawned the melting butter.

‘Which of us is which?’ asked the flour.

‘I think I’ll puff myself up,’ said the baking powder. ‘This is such a cosy oven.’

They were all quiet then, enjoying the cosy oven. No-one spoke for a long time.

Then, all of a sudden, a new voice spoke.

It was an eggish, buttery, floury voice — sweet as sugar, and as cheery as a cherry.

‘I know what I am!’ it said. ‘I am … I am …’

But it couldn’t quite think of the right word.

Someone opened the oven.

‘Oh Mum!’ cried Mary. ‘What a lovely cake!’

‘So that’s what I am now,’ said the voice. ‘I’m a cake.’

Mary’s mother iced the cake.

‘Now I’m wearing my best coat,’ said the cake.

Mary sprinkled the cake with hundreds and thousands.

‘Now I am wearing my jewels,’ said the cake.

Mary’s mother put four candles in the cake.

‘Now I’m wearing my crown!’ the cake cried.

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