Selma is a baker. Every autumn the village has a big dinner, the Long Table. Selma must bake three hundred loaves. But one evening her oven cracks! Smoke fills the room. Her granddaughter Lotte rings the school bell. The neighbors come, and everybody takes some dough home.
All night they bake in their own ovens. In the morning the table is full of bread. "This is not my bread," says Selma. "No," says Lotte. "It is ours."
