Mud Pies

When Maria was four years old, she loved to be outdoors.

Sometimes her father would take her for walks around the farm. She would reach up her arm and grab hold of his pinky, wrapping her little fingers around it as they walked. He would point at things for her to see like the fruit in the tree or a bird flying over head. Sometimes he would carry her on his shoulders and she felt she could touch the sky. Maria would watch her father at whatever he would do whether it was fixing a piece of fence or looking at the corn.

Other times, Maria would play outdoors with her little brother, Tomas. They would run around the grass playing chase. They would explore the gardens. They would pet the dogs and cats. They would go into the chicken and duck pen to play in the water trough. Most of all, they loved to play in the sandbox. The sandbox was shaped like a boat and even had benches in it. It was in between an apple and a pear tree and the leaves always provided a dappled shade over the sandbox.

One day, as they played in the sand, Maria had an idea. She poured some water from a pail into the sand. She picked up some of the wet sand with her hands and placed it onto a plastic plate. She smoothed it across the plate until it was covered with the mud. Then she placed the plate in front of Tomas and said, "Tomas, here is your mud pie."

Tomas looked at the pie and then took a bite. He spit it out and yelled, "Hey - that's dirt!"

Maria said, "Yeah, it's a mud pie."

Tomas ran into the house calling, "Mommy! Maria made me eat a mud pie!"

Maria's mother scolded Maria, "Do not feed your brother mud pies."

Then she scolded Maria's brother, "Do not eat Maria's mud pies."