Legend of the Candy Cane
Legend has it that in 1670, the choirmaster at the Cologne Cathedral handed out sugar sticks among his young singers to keep them quiet during the long Living Creche ceremony.
In honor of the occasion, he had the candies bent into shepherds’ crooks.
Legend also has it that in 1847, a German-Swedish immigrant named August Imgard of Wooster, Ohio, decorated a small blue spruce with paper ornaments and candy canes.
In the 1920s, Bob McCormack began making candy canes as special Christmas treats for his children, friends and local shopkeepers in Albany, Georgia.
He wanted to invent a candy that was a witness to Christ.
First of all, he used a hard candy because Christ is the rock of ages. This hard candy was shaped so that it would resemble a "J " for Jesus or,
turned upside down, a shepherd 's staff.
He made it white to represent the purity of Christ.
Finally a red stripe was added to represent the blood Christ shed for the sins of the world, and three thinner red stripes for the stripes He received on our behalf when the Roman soldiers whipped Him.
Sometimes a green stripe is added as a reminder that Jesus is a gift from God.
The flavor of the cane is peppermint, which is similar to hyssop.
Hyssop is in the mint family and was used in the Old Testament for purification and sacrifice.
Jesus is the pure Lamb of God, come to be a sacrifice for the sins of the world.
It was a laborious process--pulling, twisting, cutting and bending the candy by hand. It could only be done on a local scale.
In the 1950s, Bob’s brother-in-law Gregory Keller, a Catholic priest, invented a machine to automate candy cane production.
Packaging innovations by the younger McCormacks made it possible to transport the delicate canes on a scale that transformed Bobs Candies, Inc. into the largest producer of candy canes in the world.
Although modern technology has made candy canes accessible and plentiful, they’ve not lost their purity and simplicity as a traditional holiday food and symbol of the humble roots of Christianity.
Now here is the story written by Lori Walburg
I hope you and your little ones enjoy this precious little story.
~~~
One dreary evening in the depths of November a stranger rode into town. He stopped his horse in front of a lonely storefront. The windows were boarded shut and the door was locked fast. But the man looked at it, smiled, and said, "It will do,"
All through the gray short days and the long dark nights of November, the man worked.
The townspeople could hear the faint pam pam pam of his hammer and the snish snish snish of his saw. They could smell the sweet clean scent of new lumber and the deep oily smell of new paint. But no one knew who the man was or what he was doing.
The mayor hoped he was a doctor, to heal his illness. The young wives hoped he was a tailor, to make beautiful dresses. The farmers hoped he was a trader, to exchange their grain for goods.
But the children had the strongest, deepest wish of all. A wish they did not tell their parents. A deep, quiet, secret wish that none of them said out loud.
No one spoke to the man. No one asked if he needed help. They just waited. And watched. And wondered. And wished.
But one small girl watched and wondered, waited and wished longer than she could stand. And one snowy day she knocked at the stranger's door. "Hello," she said, "My name is Lucy. Do you need some help?"
The man smiled warmly and nodded. Then he opened the door, and Lucy stepped inside.
A long counter ran down the side of the room. Bare shelves filled the opposite walls. In the back were dozens and dozens of barrels and crates.
"Could you help me unpack?" the man asked.
Lucy's heart sand at the sight of all the boxes. What if they were only barrels of nails and bags of flour!
But she removed her dripping boots and hung her coat on a peg. on stocking feet, she crossed the rough wooden floor and knelt beside a crate.
"Please, Open it," the man urged.
Slowly, Lucy put her hand into the box and pulled out an object wrapped in tissue. Round and heavy, it almost slipped through her fingers. Lucy trembled a little as she unwrapped it.
It was a glass jar. Lucy gave the man a puzzled look. "Go on," his nod said. So she unpacked another glass jar, and another, and another, until she was completely surrounded by jars of all shapes and sizes. Tall and thin Round and squat. Jars with lids and jars without.
"Now, the man said. "for something to put inside," And he pulled over a huge crate stamped with a strange word.
As Lucy unpacked, her eyes lit up. It was candy. Her favorite candy. Gumdrops! "Try some," the man said. She popped one in her mouth. Now she could hardly unwrap fast enough. Peppermint sticks! Taffy! Lollipops! Chewing gum!
Wide-eyed, she looked at the man. "We wished...," Lucy said. "Yes, I know," said the man. "And here it is. Welcome to Sonneman's Candy Store. I am John Sonneman."
Soon the small store was filled with candies, gleaming in their glass jars. Raspberry suckers and tiny lemon drops. Brightly colored jawbreakers and long tangles of licorice. Pink and white peppermints for church and butterscotch balls for company.
Then in the very last package in the very last crate, was a candy Lucy had never seen before, a red and white striped candy stick with a crook on the end. "What is this?" Lucy asked.
This, Mr. Sonneman explained, "it is a candy cane. It is a very special Christmas candy."
"Why?" Lucy asked. "Tell me," Mr. Sonneman said, "what letter does it look like?"
Lucy took the candy and turned it in her hand. "J " she said.
"Yes," Mr. Sonneman smiled. "J for Jesus, who was born on Christmas day."
Now, turn it over. What does it remind you of?" Lucy turned the candy in her hand. She peered down intently. "I know!" she said finally. "It's like a shepherd's staff."
"Who were the first to find out about Jesus' birth?" Mr. Sonneman asked. "Shepherds in the field,." Lucy answered, "watching over their flocks by night."
But Mr. Sonneman, what are the stripes for?" Lucy asked. The man's eyes grew sad. "The prophet Isaiah said, "By His stripes we are healed." Before He died on the cross, Jesus was whipped. He bled terribly. The red reminds us of His suffering and His blood.
"But then, " Mr. Sonneman continued, "the candy is white as well. When we give our lives to Jesus, His blood washed away our sins, making us white and pure as snow.
"That," he said, "is the story of the candy cane." "Is it a secret?" Lucy asked.
Mr. Sonneman looked at her for a long moment. "It's a story that needs to be told," he said. "Will you help me share it?"
It was now the depths of December. The town was whipped round by blizzard winds. For days, the sun hid itself. But every morning, Mr. Sonneman and Lucy ventured out. They wore heavy woolen coats and bright handknit scarves. And in their stiff, mittened fingers they each held a bag. They went to every house in town. They traveled to every farm in the country. They knocked on every door. In every home, they told the story, they left a small gift, and they gave an invitation.
On the afternoon of Christmas Eve, the sun finally broke through the clouds. And Sonneman's Candy Store officially opened. The mayor came, feeling better than he'd felt in days. The young wives came, dressed in beautiful smiles. The farmers came, eager to trade grain for Christmas gifts. The children ran in dizzy circles. Yes, their wish had come true. Yes, they had come to share in the opening of the candy store. But they shared something more. Something bigger. Something better.
On that Christmas Eve, they shared the story of the candy cane. They told of the miracle of Christ's birth. The misery of His death. And the mercy of His love.
So, every time you see or eat a candy cane, remember the message about how it began.
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