Copyright © 2023 by Gregory E. Lang All Rights Reserved
Quietville image created using AI.
Once upon a time, but not that long ago, in a place not that far away, there was a small neighborhood known as Quietville, and that is where our story begins. There was something rather peculiar about this neighborhood. Quietville was always, well, very quiet. Neighbors would come and go and wave or nod and smile, but no one ever said, “Hello.” It seemed that everyone had taken the name of their neighborhood quite literally, and silence was the word. Hardly a whisper was ever heard.
Within this quiet neighborhood were two dozen tiny houses, each in the center of a tiny yard, all encircling a field of green grass. At the center of this field of grass stood a single beautiful tree, a fig tree that produced delicious figs each and every day of the year. This was good because, within each tiny yard, each neighbor had enough room to plant only one thing in their tiny gardens.
Some neighbors grew a fruit tree, and others grew a vegetable, and from their garden, each family ate only what they grew, breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Imagine that, banana and figs all day, or lettuce and figs all day, or green beans and figs from morning until bedtime. But no one seemed to care, for no one knew none the better. Until one day, that is, when Earnest and Joy were whispering quietly over their usual breakfast of apple and fig muffins.
“They are so good,” Earnest whispered, “just as they always are.”
“I wish they had a little crunch,” Joy said quietly.
“That might be nice for a change,” Earnest agreed.
“You know,” Joy said quietly, “our neighbors Rico and Ava have a walnut tree.”
Earnest’s eyes opened wide. “I have an idea,” he said.
So Earnest and Joy sat by their window and watched for Rico and Ava to go outside to gather their daily collection of figs. When they finally appeared, Earnest and Joy quietly joined them beneath the fig tree.
“Hello,” Joy whispered.
“Hola,” Ava whispered back.
“We will gladly trade a basket of fresh apple fig muffins for a bag of your walnuts,” Earnest said.
Rico raised his curious eyebrows, and Ava quickly said, “Why, yes! Si! Si! Of course! And the exchange of produce was made.
“Thank you,” Earnest and Joy said.
“Gracias,” Rico and Ava said.
The next day, the neighbors met again beneath the fig tree. “Did you enjoy the muffins?” Earnest asked.
“Oh, yes,” Ava answered, “they were divine.”
“Si, divina!” Rico said a little loudly. “Such a nice change for our stomachs!”
“I can’t wait for you to try these, then,” Joy said, holding forth another basket of hot muffins. “They are made with my new recipe, apple, fig, and walnut!”
In their excitement about the new muffin recipe, the neighbors did not notice that their second appearance at the fig tree had attracted an audience.
“Bonjour,” someone whispered. It was Pierre and Juliette from just down the street. “That recipe sounds delicious,” Pierre said.
“Oui, delicieuse,” Juliette agreed, eyeing the basket. “We will happily give each of you a basket of frisée in exchange for your apples and walnuts.” And the exchange of produce was made, just as before.
“Thank you,” said Earnest and Joy.
“Gracias,” said Rico and Ava.
“Merci,” said Pierre and Juliette.
And the next day, the neighbors of the three houses met again beneath the fig tree.
“Hello,” Joy said loudly.
“Hola,” Ava almost shouted.
“Bonjour!” Juliette did shout.
“Buongiorno,” someone whispered. “What is all the noise about?” Lorenzo asked.
“You are raising such a ruckus,” Bianca said.
“We are trading our harvests,” Earnest explained.
“And tasting new foods,” Rico said.
“And pleasing our stomachs,” Pierre nearly shouted.
“Well then,” Bianca said, “bring everything to our house tonight and I will serve you pasta. Our noodle garden is overflowing!”
“Yes,” Lorenzo said with excitement, “we will have a festa!”
“Of course,” shouted Joy.
“Oui,” shouted Pierre.
“Excelente!” Rico roared.
In a short time, Earnest and Joy, Rico and Ava, Pierre and Juliette, and Lorenzo and Bianca were sitting at a table eating a salad of frisée and diced apples and a pasta with walnuts.
“It is magnificent,” Pierre shouted.
“Si, it is!” Rico bellowed.
And as the neighbors shared the meal, they began to share their stories, too. There was laughter and applause, and they cheered and sang. They were so loud that everyone heard the thunderous clatter.
Knock, knock!
“Is something the matter?” Lorenzo asked as he opened the door.
“Not at all,” said Hans, “but we heard the uproar.”
“And we brought potato salad,” said his wife Olga, who was straining to see the dining table.
“Well then, come in!” Bianca called out.
“Danka,” Hans said with glee.
Everyone cleaned their plates and then leaned back to rub their full stomachs.
“It was superba, my love,” said Lorenzo.
“Indeed it was,” exclaimed Pierre. “So delightful and so new! Delicieux!”
“All our neighbors should enjoy such a feast,” Ava said.
Suddenly, Hans burped unexpectedly. “Verzeihung!” he said very loudly, “I think there is a party in my belly!”
“Yes!” Bianca leapt from her chair. “A picnic party, yes! Let’s, let’s!” she trumpeted with excitement. And everyone agreed in their own way.
“Si!”
“Oui!”
“Ja!”
“OK!”
It didn’t take long for news of the picnic party to spread throughout the neighborhood. After all, Quietville wasn’t so quiet anymore. In fact, it was hardly quiet at all.
The day of the party arrived, and festivities began with every neighbor bringing a harvest of the best fruit or nuts of their trees, or vegetables from their gardens.
“Hello, we are Earnest and Joy,” the introductions began.
“Merhaba,” answered Omar and Tooba, nodding politely.
“Bonjour,” said Pierre and Juliette.
“Hela,” answered Jacob and Sarah. “We brought celery and herbs.”
“Halo, and danka. I am Hans, and this is Olga.”
“Jambo! We are Obi and Imani. What a pleasure it is to meet so many neighbors! We have hot peppers.”
After lots of mixing and exchanging, demonstrations, and asking, everyone headed into their kitchens to cook new creations. When the afternoon arrived, a picnic table was set, and it quickly filled from end to end with bowls and plates of beautiful foods most had never seen before. Laura and Jim brought cucumber and dill sandwiches. Omar and Tooba brought eggplant and chickpeas. Obi and Imani brought stewed onions, peppers, and tomatoes. Jin and Kwan made stir-fried walnuts and green beans. There were mushroom and spinach empanadas, pasta with peas, squash with pesto, and rice and red beans! And for dessert, Allison and Bob churned peach and fig ice cream.
The air was filled with “ooohhs” and “aaahhs” and “yumms,” everyone was smiling and laughing so loud, and the children ran and shrieked and learned new games and new songs and dances. No one had ever heard such a cheerful crescendo in Quietville.
“It feels like something is happening in Quietville,” Joy said.
“Yes,” agreed Lorenzo; it is so delightfully noisy! Trasformazione!”
“Indeed, a most welcome mabadilika!” Obi and Imani agreed.
“We call it tikkun olam,” Jacob said. “It means ‘repair the world’. You see, today, we are making our little neighborhood a better place.”
“Wunderbar!” Hans roared. “A most excellent statement!”
“Most excellent indeed! Simply fabulous!” Laura chimed in. “And I don’t know about y’all, but I think this neighborhood now needs a new name.”
And from that day forward, Quiteville became known as Friendlyville. And to this very day, the neighbors are laughing and sharing and shouting their greetings to everyone they see, just as good neighbors should. And, of course, now no one eats only what their garden will grow for breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
The End.
Das Ende.
Arrivederci.
Shalom.
Au Revoir.
Adios.
That’s all, yall!
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