Village children have plenty of time to play and pursue their dreams in Ordinary. They also learn responsibility from an early age. Everyone, save the tiniest of tots, does one-half to one hour community service six days a week.
At table, we don’t say much the first few minutes. I suspect the others are as hungry as I. We nearly disgrace ourselves slurping and gorging.
Just as gardeners garden (that’s me), weavers weave, and builders build in Ordinary, anyone who loves to plan, cook, and assemble meals can choose more time in the kitchen.
Ralph’s eyes are soft, his smile gentle, reflecting my own. Making my way through the herb garden to the kitchen, I stop to pluck a bit of lemon thyme and crush it against my nose.
I give thanks for the twins, for this day, opening calm and sweet, for each one of the villagers, for a peaceful world, for this most beautiful Earth, for Spirit who helped us all to learn compassion and to grow peace in our hearts.
I waken gently from a dream of wildflowers blowing on the hillside. Murgatroid’s soft paw rests against my cheek. The room is dark under the new moon. Cool air lifts the gauzy curtain at the window, graceful spectre.
Village of Ordinary 