Valjean had purchased fifty large loaves of bread that morning, and now he and Cosette were headed to a small church to distribute it to the poor. As their fiacre approached a festively-decorated candy shop, however, Cosette spoke up.

"Father?"

"Yes, Cosette."

"Father, we are always giving bread to the poor—bread, and warm things, what they need to live. But I was thinking…there are so many children. And they're always so sad."

A shadow crossed his face. "Yes, most of them are."

"I want to make them happy, Papa," she said earnestly. "If only for a moment. To let them have the pleasures other children have."

Valjean inclined his head. "And how do you propose we do that, Cosette?"

She pointed to the candy store, which was now behind them. "Peppermint sticks."

His brow wrinkled. "…peppermint sticks?"

Cosette nodded. "Yes. I've enough pocket money to buy quite a lot of them, and candy always makes children happy. I—" She blushed. "I still remember the first time you bought me candy. It was a peppermint stick. I hadn't known that anything could be so wonderful."

Valjean stared at her a moment, then leaned out the carriage window and bid the driver turn around. When they emerged from the candy store a quarter of an hour later, they had enough peppermint sticks for every poor child they met that day.

With every smile, Valjean remembered the face of little Cosette smiling up at him.