We walked to the small restaurant on a pathway
bathed in sunlight with the smell of sea salt in the air. Sweat dripped
down my back as the hot Maine sun beat down on me, and I tried, with no
avail, to swat away the plethora of bothersome mosquitoes cacophonously
buzzing in my ear. The other tourists around us filled the expanse with
their chattering and laughter, while street performers showed off their
tricks to loud, upbeat music. Pleasant aroma drifting, brightly colored
flowers all around us dripped from their hanging pots and peeked out
from under dark layers of mulch. I watched a few energetic kids climb on
statues and sculptures of all sorts when the grumble of my stomach
snapped me back to reality. Salivary glands kicking in, I imagined the
mac ní cheese that I was going to order. I could just taste the cheesy
pasta, gooey, warm, and delicious, melting on my tongue.
I thought that my family members could not walk any slower as I urged
them to hurry up their nonchalant pace. When at last we neared the
crowded restaurant, the first thing I felt was the air conditioning,
cool, refreshing, and wonderful, hit my body. I walked up the steps and
looked around the small building in dismay Ė the place was packed! I
could hear how morose the hostess was from her voice as she told us the
possible waiting time that we would have, but I could also feel the hope
that she had as she told us that she would come and find us as soon as
enough tables opened up so that we could have a seat.
Radiating disappointment, we all trudged back down the stairs and
slumped to the small alleyway next to the building. The shade would cool
us off, but it was clear that none of us were up to waiting forty-five
minutes for just a small bowl of bread.
However, we were soon able to find the good in the bad. The small alley
was more of a narrow pathway. Paved with cobblestone and lined with
rustic bricks and a bright, fire-engine red ledge, it was almost like an
addition to the building adjacent to it. Meanwhile, my sister and
cousin, Esther and Victoria, played with my auntís high-tech camera.
Laughing, my aunt encouraged me to join in on their fun.
Posing for the camera, we soon forgot about how hungry we were and
focused on the cool pictures we were taking. I was so happy and thankful
for my familyís creativity and willingness to have fun as we danced
around in that sunny little nook that we had found. In fact, none of us
even noticed when a whole hour, fifteen minutes longer than we were
supposed to wait, had passed by.
Before we knew it, our wait was over and a waitress came out to call us
in. When we decided to look for the good in things instead of letting
the bad things rain on our parade, I was rewarded with a day of fun with
my family and a bunch of fun pictures to show off at home. There is no
such thing as a bad day, only unfortunate events. You just have to be
willing to look for the good.