Tara Maya's Tales

Rice in North Korea was distributed by the government. Despite the official Communist ideology of “equality,” everything, even the daily ration of rice, was regulated by a strict caste system. During the 1990s, rampant corruption and government mismanagement of the country’s resources resulted in a terrible famine. Rice rations were cut across the nation, but especially for the less “desirable” castes. The Kwons were one such couple. Every day, while her husband watched carefully, Mrs. Kwon distributed their rice into equal amounts….equal amounts of less and less. Mrs. Kwon stared at the small amount of food and despaired. I can survive on less because I am a woman , thought Mrs. Kwon. But my husband cannot. Better that at least one of us survive . As soon as her husband left the room, Mrs. Kwon took one measure of rice from her bowl and added it to her husband’s bowl. Then she went outside to fetch water. As soon as she was gone, Mr. Kwon, unawar...

“What are these, exactly?” asked Bill. “Antlers for your car!” said the checkout lady. She wore a red Santa hat at a jaunty angle.  She wiggled her fingers on top of her head. “To make it look like a reindeer.” He laughed. “Does it make it fly over rush hour traffic too?” “Of course!” she smiled. “But only once, and only at just the perfect time. One miracle per antlers.” “Why not?” Bill added the antlers to his other groceries. He could use some Christmas cheer. Since his son had gone off to college and the beloved family dog, Mitts, had passed on to Doggie Heaven, the house had been quiet. Bill and the Misses didn’t even have a tree this year. The antlers would be his token decoration. He fastened them onto his car in the parking lot. The wind was bitter and brutal that night, and Bill had a long drive home. Suddenly, on an isolated road lined with trees, a branch dropped in front of the car. The car ran up it like a ramp, and literall...

Benjamin wiped his forehead and squinted up at the dirty slit of light. The only sunlight he had seen over the past year had come through that grime-smeared window. He reached for another screwdriver, one with a torx head. He carefully attached a wheel to the smiling toy car he was making, but accidently nudged another wheel, which dropped to the floor. It rolled away. Benjamin bent down and tried to reach it. He had to strain to the end of his chain, and the metal bit painfully into his ankle, but he retrieved the wheel, and set it back on the picnic table where he worked. A crack of light appeared at the top of the steps. Benjamin cringed, even before he heard heavy footsteps descend. Mr. Vorst stomped over to the picnic table. He snatched the toy from Benjamin’s hands. “Please, Mr. Vorst , it’s not done yet…” “Another stupid car, cheap plastic, rubber and paint…. I could buy one ten times better at the store. You keep promising me magi...

Great-grandma had four grown children, eight grown grandchildren and fifteen scampering grandchildren, but she refused to slow down. She insisted on going Christmas shopping, despite the terrible weather and the crowds at the mall. Unfortunately, her spirit was stronger than her heart, and she collapsed while standing in line at the giftwrap. She was rushed to the hospital. Doctors expected her to recover, but they limited the number of visitors she could have. As much as her huge family wanted to, they couldn’t all go visit her. Her eight grown grandchildren all loved to bake and decided they would bring her a pie. But which of them would be one to take her a pie in the hospital? “We’ll all bake our own special pie,” suggested Nancy. “Whoever’s pie tastes the best, will get to take it to grandma.” They agreed and each baked his or her favorite pie. Nancy baked an apple pie… Betsy baked cherry… Harry made lemon meringue… Donald made chocolate mou...