Let Them Eat Cake! The New Harvest Moon

I surfed the internet this morning, looking for whether Marie Antoinette actually declared those title words ever so long ago.  The general scholarly gist was no, she did not.  The words were propaganda used against her and other nobles of the time. Rabble rousing rubbish.  If the poor have no bread, then let them eat cake!

When I was a child, I heard those words and thought Marie Antoinette to be rather generous. I pictured a Disney princess with a beehive hairdo handing out pretty pink pieces of birthday cake to all her subjects.  I took it literally; let them eat cake.  As my life was thrift stores and Salvation Army cast offs, I rarely got cake or ice cream.  A big treat in the house was strawberries and milk or a spoonful of honey.  So, my Grimm Brothers and Hans Christian Andersen fueled imagination had a cliche story plot involving my transformation into an elegant princess just as I was handed my pretty pink slice of cake. But just me. Not my sister. No. She stayed poor. Everyone knows that the older sister always gets what she deserves for cutting your Barbie's hair off.

Now, forty four years later, I am slightly less ready to pass judgement; but I am still waiting for cake. When is it my turn to have the tasty treat? 

Oddly, it hadn't occurred to me that I am now the noble. I don't feel like a princess. I certainly don't look like a princess. Yet, if I was honest, my loving Buddhist treats me like one.  Maybe he sees an elegance that I don't. Yet, the fact remains that I am fortunate. I have a nice life in a nice house in a nice town.  Fortunate. Lucky.  Yes, we worked hard and did smart things; but we also did incredibly stupid things. I'm sticking with Lucky.

Today is the new Harvest Moon, a moon that I am always fond of as it conjures the image of Thanksgiving with a large cornucopia of beautiful firm vegetables. Bounty. Abundance. And like dominoes in my mind, I eventually find myself feeling gratitude.  But gratitude is a hollow comfort for those without bread.

May this moon, move me to generosity.  Let them eat. Period. Let them eat.