A Grand Idea

Well, it didn’t snow in the south on Christmas, and certainly not in Maria’s home town by the sea.

Now, the only thing Maria wanted for Christmas was a plague doctor’s mask—with a bonafide beak protuberance for aromatics—and an ankle length black leather cloak, and the wide flat hat.

Oh, the places she could roam!

She looked under the tree and found a small box tagged with her name. She ripped the wrapping off and saw N-95 printed on the box.

Maybe next year, she said.

If there is a next year, said Mr. Munchems.

Mr. Munchems, you can be such a bore, she said to her rabbit.

Listen, Maria, you can’t always get what you want, Mr. Munchems said between nibbles of dandelion greens, but you take what you need, and pass the love along.

But Mr. Munchems, she said, in this world that seems so bereft of love and good will, what is there to take but bad vibes?

What year do you think this is kid, 1969? Bad vibes? Mr. Munchems said. You do what you can. You get ‘bad vibes’ and you turn them into … uh … uh, lemonade … yeah, lemonade!

Mr. Munchems, I think you’re nuts, Maria said. You’ve been eating to many mushrooms.

Listen, kid. Just try and make the world a little bit better place than you found it. Start here at home. Then your neighborhood. Then your home town. Concentric circles, kid. Just circle out in ever-widening ‘good-vibe-osity!’

Maria struck with a grand idea …

That night the family enjoyed a most good-humored meal—Rabbit Terrine.

A very merry to all, and to all a good bite!

“You don’t write to make friends.”

— Joy Williams