What happens when the promised elixir (*) that has been touted for centuries as guaranteed to promote health, heal the wounds, cure disease, alleviate pain and prevent the noxious viruses from returning does not deliver on the hoped-for happy outcome? What is left for us to conclude when we observe the sick and infirm, the injured, the newly infected, bedridden souls, walking wounded, still vulnerable to the onslaught of malignant microbes? Has the original situation fundamentally changed? Do we delude ourselves by claiming progress? Are we to say, behold the amazing power of the elixir that only here and there, haphazardly and unpredictably works its magic? Because many have closed themselves off from the healing effects and thereby prove unworthy of a cure? Is that it? On the basis of such glaring evidence, could one not reasonably begin to question the purpose of the elixir itself? And if the elixir has not been working out as advertised, have we in fact misunderstood it?
On a well-traveled corridor of the East coast - where tourists drive northward every summer on a sleepy (and sometimes dated) old thoroughfare that meanders (roughly speaking) with the shoreline - there lies a coastal village renowned for its posh homes and proud inhabitants - and at the center of this village which boasts of a main street, a historic library and a stately boat landing, a garden shop can be found nestled among costly domiciles - just a stone's throw from the private academy and the gourmet ice cream shop. Set upon five acres of serene commercial flatland - the property houses multiple plants and trees and flowers - providing an oasis of greenery for anyone conjuring up daydreams of bucolic bliss. Set apart from the store - a no-frills wooden edifice - were greenhouses, rows of plants and flowers, larger trees in back and an old modest mansion of a house - still occupied by the family, Estabrook, which had owned the place going back three (3) generations. Th...
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