Jacob London - Sugarlump -

"It’s impossible, Tim," the baker sighed, looking at the dense yellow fog clinging to the cobblestones. "No one can navigate the docks in this."

They arrived at the orphanage just as the clock struck midnight. The orphanage matron couldn't believe her eyes when the back doors of "Jacob London" opened to reveal boxes of peppermint sticks, iced cakes, and bags of white sugar, delivered by the smiling, shivering "Sugarlump." Jacob London - Sugarlump

"Old Jake can," Timothy said, patting the dashboard of the van. "It’s impossible, Tim," the baker sighed, looking at

The next morning, the street kids dubbed the van "The Sugarplum Express," and Timothy never let the van’s engine go cold, ensuring the sweetness of London was delivered, no matter the fog. The next morning, the street kids dubbed the

One foggy December night, with Christmas only a day away, the bakery’s main supply truck broke down. The orphanage on the edge of town was set to receive nothing but stale bread for their holiday feast.