The Bakery Receipts With Circled Letters
On Saturdays, Nate helped at his uncle's bakery by bagging rolls and counting out change, and by the third week of March he had noticed something peculiar. Every Saturday a gray-haired customer named Mrs. Varga bought a single loaf of rye bread, and every time she took her receipt, she circled one letter in the shop's name with a pencil.
Nate began keeping the crumpled slips that she left behind on the counter. During the first week she had circled a T, during the second week a W, and during the third week an E. "That could be a pattern," he muttered. "Or it could simply be an accident."
He wrote the letters in order in his notebook as the weeks went by. After a month he had T, W, E, N, T, Y, and after several more Saturdays the pattern had grown into TWENTY YEARS, at which point he dropped his pencil in astonishment.
He sprinted to the back of the shop. "Uncle Gus, I think someone is planning something for your anniversary," he said breathlessly. "It has been twenty years since you opened, hasn't it?"
His uncle blinked, and then a broad smile spread across his face. The next Saturday, Mrs. Varga strolled in with a dozen neighbors who were carrying an enormous hand-lettered banner. "Thank you for twenty years of rye bread," it read.
She winked at Nate. "I wondered who would notice," she said. "Most people never bother to read the receipt."