The Mystery of the Chocolate

"I declare," said Lacy vividly, "Those Spanish monks really understand life." Her friend smiled.
"You know, I think I'll go to Spain someday, just to study their culture! Emily, we should do this together." She continued, and Emily nodded slowly, taking care not to lose her needle in the many folds of material she was currently working together.
"I think somehow, that your interest does not lie in the whole of Spanish culture, rather the work which the monks do--make chocolate. You do realize that no one knows their secret?"
"Yes, but maybe they will tell me." Lacy was not to be discouraged.
"I seriously doubt that. These monks have discovered the recipe, and why should they give it away? It is at least some way that they may receive funds for their work. If others took this from them, I hesitate to think of what may happen." Emily pursued.
"Alright, maybe I won't beg for it, but perhaps if I read about their past maybe it will tell me . . ."
"Lacy! Didn't you hear what I just said?"
"Yes, well, sort of."
"What ever gave you such ideas?" Emily was disgusted, and she had pricked her finger.

At the monastery in Spain a few months later, a letter arrived from a certain Miss Lacy De Bois.
"Another letter asking about our chocolate, no doubt." Br. Cletus remarked to his companion.
"I think you are right. When will these people ever learn? I will take it to the superior."
The superior was a very honest man, and smiled at the letter.
"Br. Cletus, write down a reply letter to a certain Miss Lacy De Bois. Dear Madame, in reply to your inquiries of how this order came to find the balance in life, i.e. chocolate, I wish to share with you a secret."
"But--" Br. Cletus began, but said no more, and rather smiled as he finished the letter.

"Emily! They replied to my letter, the monks I mean. Here, read it." Lacy handed her friend the letter. By the time Emily was finished, Lacy was bub ling with excitement.
"But I don't understand, he didn't tell you the secret." Emily mused.
"That is what I thought, but the more I thought about it the more sense it made. And it would explain the perfection of this gift of God."
"But all it says is 'the secret to the perfect food is a perfect way of life.' That doesn't tell you anything."
"Yes it does! The monks perfected chocolate by discipline. Those people that have failed on creating this delicacy failed because they did not have the patience, the thought, or the wisdom. By striving for perfection in themselves, the find perfection also in the things about them, like chocolate!"
Emily just sighed. Her friend was so odd.

Just a Note!

Hello,
Thanks for reading my blog, I hope you enjoy the stories!
If you can, I'd appreciate any feed-back on them--like certain stories you like, and others you don't and why that is so...it helps me alot! Also, if you find anything that seems incomplete or unsatisfactory.
Thank you!
Mari S.

The Cloud Town

High, high up in the sky, a single rain cloud was rolling by. Many think of the cloud as merely another object, but it is in fact a home for the rain-drops. Now, in this particular watery town, there lived a sparkling droplet that was not yet half grown. Now, life for rain drops is not so very different then ours, for when they grow up they leave to find the object of their desire, and for rain drops, it is a beautiful place to spend their lives.

"Mamma, I wish to go to the most beautiful place in all the world, for I think that I would serve best there." he whimpered softly.

"My son, many rain drops have sought the most beautiful place in the world, but as far as I know, none have found it. However, when you are full grown, look down upon the earth, and seek that which is most beautiful to you." She replied, and dropped off into the sky. The little dropling watched her as she drifted down, and wondered why had she chosen such a terrible dry spot? Sighing, he looked around to find some new-comers had arrived.

"Hello there, sonny, listen to the stories these droplets tell." a local standbyer said. The first droplet spoke:

"I figured I would seek the most lucious and green spot on earth. I found it, and it had seemed so pretty from the skies. But when I arrived, I found that they had no need of me, and wanted to throw me far away. I was angry, but I looked at the ground. It had began to mold from too many like me, and soon the lovely plants would die."
The second droplet then spoke:

"I always loved the sand, and so I headed for the desert. But, when I arrived, I discovered that no rain had been there in many, many months. It was so dry, I felt myself returning here almost immediatly. It had been because I was alone. If there had been many droplets every day, then the cactus would have grown, and the green grass."

The little droplet had now grown to full size, and was ready to leave the town of cloud.
"Farewell, my friends, I am off to become the most beautiful spot in all the world!" he cried, and the other droplings whispered among themselves that he had left in search of a dried up spot in Ireland, and together with his local budies would restore the island to her former glory, by their self-sacrifice.

Jesse's Grandmother

Jesse sat by the fire, warming her small toes. It was a beautiful fire, not too big or too small. Jesse's family had owned this house for generations, and it was no wonder why. The engraved beams told stories of nymphs and elves, while the masonry was old enough to tell stories of the revolution. Jesse's Grandmother sat near her in the old rocking chair that her father had built, and seemed to be asleep.
"Grandma, tell me a story!" Jesse blurted out, hoping that Grandma would, for Grandma could tell the best stories.
"A story? What about?" Grandma replied.
"The first thing that pops into your head!" This was the most common sentece that Jesse uttered, and Grandma was expecting it.
"What do you hear, Jesse?"
"I hear the Coyotes howling. The Crickets chirping. The Wind screaming. I hear some Animal that is dying." Jesse said slowly, as she disciphered the noises of the night. As she said the last instance, she became sad, and said:
"Grandma, tell me a story about the animal that is dying."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes, for I want to know what happened to it."
"You are a brave child.
Once upon a time, in the woods not far from here, lived a bear. He was a grumpy old bear, and the coyotes feared his strength. The coyotes figured they had it rough, dealing with the temperments of an old bear. But they didn't think of the raccoons. These animals didn't fear broken ribs, they feared the coyote's stomach. The raccoons thought they had it the roughest, considering they didn't love the coyote's stomach. But, the raccoons never thought of the poor farmer, the farmer who lived in fear that he would starve because the raccoons ate all of his harvest. The farmer thought he had it the roughest, because he rationed that nature was against him. But the farmer never thought of the grumpy old bear, who always hid from the farmer's gun."
"But that goes in a circle!" Jesse deducted.
"That is how it is. Each person in this world believes that his lot is the toughest, never thinking of how someone else near him are affected by his actions. With the animals, that is nature, but for us, we have a choice. We can either work together hazardously, hurting eachother because our thoughts are absorbed by self pity, or we can work together in a harmonious way, looking out for oneanother's backs."
"Do you need a shawl, Grandmother?" Jesse asked politely.
"Yes indeed, I would love that. In return, there are some mints on the upper shelf...."

The Riddle of All Time

She reached out her hand to take it, but it was far to quick for her.
She smiled and waved in a friendly way, but it was not to be deluded.
An angry hand stretched out to take it, but once again, it escaped.
Sobbing, she pleaded for pity, but it was not to be fooled so easily.
Sleeping, her dreams cried out against it, and her head was bent in sorrow--but it knew she was not ready, and continued to sing it's riddle, in a quiet, maddening way.

"Stop, I beg you!" She cried into the air, but the creature did not listen, and continued, laughing.
"Try everything you might, but it shall not matter to me, for until you find my secret, miserable you will be." it shouted as it circled above her head.

She stopped her longing for this creature to think for just a moment; her mind cleared, her thoughts sang, and her eyes filled with tears.
"I had always wished to capture you, and control your every move. But now I know your meaning, and I no longer seek to catch you."
"Did you learn my meaning? Did you learn it well? Do not forget the reason that I am here at all."
"I know now your reason---it is one that cannot be sold by man or beast--but used! Used for a purpose. You are the limit of my life, and now I know that as long as you are with me, I can control my own destiny."
"Then what is my name, the name you hated so much?"
"Your name is Time, and mine is Soul. Now that I know your meaning, I love you very much. Please don't ever leave me, until my Time is up."

Tina, A fairy tale

Dusk fell, and the sun barely alowed her rays to touch the tops of the trees and filled the sky with lovely colors. Just below, a little sparkle flickered near a stone. It is a fairy! Like a miniture sun, but much more lovely, she exited her day home and flew into the night. Tina was a lone fairy, and every night she slipped out to watch the magic begin. Little elves, (the mischievious ones!) rushed out of their hiding places and lit lanterns, filling the air with a luminous touch. Mushrooms glowed, very pleased with the proceedings, giving off mists that made the air soft and gentle. Finally, the trees awoke, playing ellegant songs that made one want to jump up and dance. It was indeed a merry gathering, but the fairy Tina was alone.
"Maybe, oh, just maybe this time I will find the others." she hoped, longing for a playmate. Flying from one leaf to another, she filled the air with fairy dust.
"Tina! Come and join us!" One Elf called. But Tina shook her little head.
"No, I must find other fairies." she said softly.
"Oh, that you will never do! Don't you know? You are with us, for once you enter this wood, you can never leave." he explained.
"Never....?" she quivered. "But I must, for I am so lonely."
"Lonely, eh? Well, I will speak to the King for you; I'm sure his Majesty will do something."

Later that evening, the Elf King strolled over to where Tina sat.
"So you are lonely, eh? Well, perhaps I can fix that. Ran! Bring what we found here." he shouted.
Tina was frightened, for altho she had grown up with the Elves, she never knew what they might do next. Ran, the medical elf, brought over a little blanket. Wrapped inside was another fairy, who was unconscience.
"We discovered him in the woods, bleeding and lost. Ran has cured his flesh wounds, which, I believe was made by a crow."
"When will he awake?" she asked timidly.
"I do not know! It seems impossible, as we've tried a great many ways, failing. However, I will leave you to try."
After they were alone, Tina touched the other fairy's hand. Instantly he awoke.
"Who are you?" he asked surprised and pleased.
"I....I'm Tina." and she smiled. It was a beautiful smile.
"Tina. Thank you for awaking me. I am so lonely, please, talk to me."
And Tina did.

What if Obi-Wan had used Force Speed?

The water rushed by her feet, and the wind blew her hair. She smiled. As Ann looked up to the clear sky, she could see the trees swaying, back and forth. The green creepers entwined themselves around anything they could grasp, be it dead or alive. The waterfall pounded luxerously agaist the pool bottom, very much like an Irish woman on washing day.
"It's beautiful," she murmered ever so quietly, as if frightened to wake the forest with the sound of an unatural voice humming through the foliage.
Many times during her life Ann had come here, just to listen to the peace and traquility of God's creation. Often, when she was fustrated or angry, she would come to the waterfall to just listen and think until she was quieted or reconciled with her thoughts.
"This spot is so close to heaven, I'm sure." she breathed in the fragrance, admiring it softly. She had been so still that a doe had entered the clearing to drink from the stream. Ann hardly dared to look, it was so perfect.
Time passed. Hours began to multiply, and as the sun began to set, Ann regretfully pointed her toes towards home.
"I'll be back," she whispered.

Heros

For some people, life is like a pebble---you toss it into the air and hope it's caught again, although you arn't afraid if it's not. For other people, life is like a coin--you flip it and go whatever way fate intended you to. And yet other people see life as a challenge, like a madator against a bull. They refuse to be put down and stamped on because that is what happens being a madator. Instead, they dodge and weave, escaping the calamites of life with a graceful yet dramatic touch, inspiring all those who watch.
It is these people who change this world, it is these people who cause ledgends to flair up into being! They are the heros and the villians-strong and brilliant. People fear and admire them, run to them and away from them. It is these people who make a better, or worse, world.
And we watch, yes we watch so that we might learn from them.
Heartbreaking to many that always wanted to be of them, but never could be because they were not willing to give up everything for what they desire the most.
And yet....heros are heros because they are stronger, wiser, and uncommon from the rest of us....and they don't really care that they are worshipped by the youngsters, for if they did, then they are not heros, because a hero doesn't possess self love---it means he couldn't give up everything for what is desired.
People like the Pope, the martyers for the faith and country, the town hero who beat up the bully are those people. And we honor them for it.

Good God! Math!

Little Jimmy ran down the street as fast as he could go. He hated school, he detested it like a disease, and would have liked to be done with the whole of it. He didn't see the point of school. Jimmy believed that a person should only learn what they are interested in learning--and he did not want to learn math. At all. He believed that if you know how to add, subtract and multiply that was the maximum you needed to know.
Jimmy Pearson was playing hookey. He had a math test today that he didn't want to take---and that's why he was running, hoping desperatly that no one would catch him.
As he rounded a corner, Jimmy stopped. In front of him was a group of men surrounding a younger man of about twenty. They were shouting something at him, but Jimmy couldn't quite hear what it was. The young man was speaking quietly in a gentle, commanding way.
Appearently one of the others, a tall older man of about thirty, didn't like what he said and lashed out a right fist. The boy dodged perfectly. This only enraged his opponent however, and he struck again. Once more the boy dodged. Now the entire gang began to mob him, and Jimmy was afraid for the couragous young man. Suddenly, when all seemed lost, Jimmy was stunned to see this outnumbered boy flip above his enemies and land on the outside of the circle, leaving the gang to hit themselves. The boy walked up to Jimmy in a nonchalont way, and said:
"Jimmy, get back to school, your math test is waiting." Usually, when this happens, Jimmy sulks and obeys. But this was different. He admired the man very much, but had open eyes that this man knew who he was. Jimmy freaked. And he ran back to school faster then he had come. Later that day, Jimmy walked home. He had failed his math test....again. As he entered the kitchen, he saw the same man there eating p.b and j's with a glass of milk. Jimmy stood stalk still. He had supposed he had imagined him...but here he was, eating p.b and j's!
"Hello, Jimmy!" the man greeted him warmly.
"Uh..hello.." Jimmy stuttered back.
"Oh hello, dear," his mother said as she entered. "I'd like to introduce you to my youngest brother and your uncle, James Matthew Sander."
"How did you know me?" Jimmy asked, not at all sure this wasn't a dream.
"Look." James showed him a picture of himself at his last birthday.
"But...my math..."
"Your mother told me how much you hate it, and that it was today. By the way, how did it go?"
"I failed. As always."
"Jimmy, listen. Just because math is difficult, it doesn't mean it's not worth doing."
"What will I ever do with it?"
"Do you remember this morning, when I, er, got myself outa that group?"
"How could I forget...." Jimmy muttered.
"That was based on math calulations, and some faith in God."
"God?"
"Now James! I thought we agreed..." his mother began.
"Do you want him to fail?"
"No...but.."
"Then, let me speak to him about it." The fact that his mother had been unwilling to speak of 'God' was intriging to Jimmy, and he became interested.
"Come on, Jimmy, let me tell you a story....Once there was a man, whose name was Jesus...."
"Jesus?"
"Yes, a beautiful name, isn't it?"
Jimmy's mother sighed. She had given up her belief when her husband had died in the War, the same war her brother just returned from.
Later that evening, James strolled over to her.
"Amy," he said gently, putting his hand in hers, "here is something your husband asked me to give you when I returned." As she looked down into her hand, she saw a crucifix, and tears began to fill her eyes.
"They both died to save those they loved best, Amy, never forget that."

The Ant and the Spider's Web

The ant was marching beside his fellow ant, just like they do in the song "the ants go marching two by two..." except there is no 'hurrah'. In any case, the ant was marching along. Suddenly a spider comes up to him and asks him a question. I don't know what the question was, but it definitly was a question because the ant replied: "I don't know where your web is, and I'd rather not know, thank you very much!" the ant really is a polite fellow, but the spider was offended.

"My web is fresh and clean and.." she started, but the ant conitnued: "...and sticky."

In any case, the ant moved on. I dare say that the spider was not to be left like that, and she ran after the ant. The ant stopped. He turned around. He looked the spider square in the eyes. And then he said:

"There is a bird behind you." and continued on his way.

Thus is the life of an ant.

Bad Days Can Only Get Better

This is one of my short stories :)

Miss Anderson was feeling very tired. Yesterday had been very long-she had taught her fifth graders, attended a teachers meeting, discovered her dog missing, recovered the dog, paid the fines, and then lamented the fact that she had not prepared for the first quarter exams for her students the next day.

Rushing to the library the next morning, she hurridly made twelve copies of the exam test, and headed to teach her English class.

As she handed out the exams, she began to hear tittering amoung a few of the girls, and outright laughter from the boys. Irritated, she demanded silence, and ordered them to place their papers on her desk as soon as they were finished filling in the blanks.

Almost immeadiatly, the fifth graders began to file the exams as she had asked, every one of them grinning. She snatched up a paper and looked at it, almost in tears. And then she laughed. She laughed for a long time. She laughed so long and hard her students began to wonder if she really was ok. Finally, Tommy spoke up:

"You got %100 percent on that exam, Miss Anderson!"

She had given them all the answer keys.

Once Upon A Time

From the beginning, fairy tales always fascinated me. I don't know how many different versions I've read of the same stories---but they are always wonderful. The authors of those stories lived a very long time ago, but then, they knew how to capture the reader's heart.

Eight years ago, I started writing stories for a book with a friend. I never believed it would go anywhere. But here I am, still writing it, and nearly finishing the first two full length novels.

I'm focusing on fairies, as I never read a story where a fairy was the main character. Of course, I had to create a world for them, including races, countries, languages, names, positions, good guys and bad guys. The Weak and the Strong.

At a later date I will post more on it, and I hope to have it in print by the fall of 2011.