Once, long ago in England, a monk saw poor families living together in rag tents on the streets of his town. Easter was two days away, and the monk thought to himself, "On the day of the rebirth of our Savior, families should not go hungry."
This monk had once been a baker, so he now baked a great many spiced buns with raisins inside. He decorated the shiny brown tops of the buns with a cross, and while they were still piping hot, he went out among the families and gave them the delicious buns.
A young boy named Giles would not take even one.
"Bake me a basketful of buns that I can sell," he said. "I do not want charity."
The monk looked at the boy's ragged c;othes and dirty face, and though he felt sorry for the lad, he saw that Giles had pride, so he baked the child a basket of the buns.
That Easter morning, Giles took his basket from house to house, singing out in a voice that carried over the clear air:
"Hot
Cross Buns. Hot Cross Buns.
One a penny, two a penny, Hot Cross Buns.
If you have no daughters, give them to your sons.
Hot Cross Buns. Hot Cross Buns."
Before Mass that morning, Giles had sold all the buns. He put the money he had earned in the poor box at church.
To this day, children all over the world chant the words of his song.