My First Job

At sixteen, Jonas got his first job in a bakery. He arrived at five each morning, tied his apron, and learned to shape rolls. The head baker, Mrs Novak, corrected him kindly but firmly: too much flour, too little water, wait longer. The ovens were hot and the hours long, yet Jonas loved the moment customers smiled at warm bread. He saved half his wages for a bicycle and spent the rest on books. When summer ended, Mrs Novak gave him a recipe card and a reference letter. Jonas still bakes those rolls every winter, and the smell brings the whole summer back. The bakery taught Jonas more than bread. He learned to arrive early, to write orders clearly, and to apologise when a loaf came out flat. He also learned that customers are not interruptions but the reason the ovens are hot in the first place. One winter morning the delivery van broke down, so Jonas carried two crates through the snow to the hospital canteen. Mrs Novak never mentioned it, but the following week his name appeared on the schedule as assistant baker. That summer he saved enough for the bicycle, and he rode it to the bakery on his last day. Years later he still uses the recipe card, now stained and soft at the edges.