Clever Catrina and the Great Carrot Feast

By Rachel Dunstan Muller, copyright 2021

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Long ago, in a village near the edge of the world, there lived an old woman named Catrina – Clever Catrina, some people called her. Now, I have to tell you, Catrina was a little unusual. Her stockings never matched, she talked to the birds as much as she talked to her neighbours, and sometimes, late at night, she could be heard leaning out her window, singing to the stars.

Now, no one in Catrina’s village was rich, but Catrina – she was poor. Not that it bothered her much – as long as she didn’t go hungry. But one morning when she went to her icebox, all that was left was a single, lonely carrot. Imagine – that’s all the food she had. Now Catrina did have a little garden behind her house, but it was early in the spring and she’d already eaten all her winter crops. And her spring and summer crops? Well, they were still little seedlings.

But do you think Catrina was worried? Not at all. They didn’t call her Clever Catrina for nothing. Her mind began turning, as she made a plan – then she marched straight to her neighbour’s house and knocked on the door.

(Knock knock)

“I’m having a party tonight,” Catrina said, when her neighbour Dimitris appeared. “A big party – with food and flowers and music. I’m inviting everyone in the village.”

“That sounds fun,” said Dimitris. “Thank you. What can we bring?”

“Oh, you don’t need to bring anything,” said Catrina. “There will be lots to eat and lots to drink.”

“Oh, but I insist,” Dimitris said.

“Well, in that case,” said Clever Catrina, “bring whatever you’d like. I’m making a carrot. It will be the best carrot anyone has ever tasted. Oh, and by the way, if you could bring your own chairs and plates, and your guitar, that would be helpful, too.”

Now, Dimitris didn’t say this to Catrina’s face, but as soon as the door was closed, he turned to his wife. “Did you hear that? She’s invited us to a party, and the only thing she’s bringing herself? A carrot! That crazy old woman.”

“Clever old woman,” said Dimitris’ wife. “We’ll just bring a little extra, to make up the difference.”

Meanwhile, Catrina was already knocking on the next door.

“Well, hello, Catrina,” said her neighbour, Sophia. “How nice to see you. What can I do for you this morning?”

“Oh, no,” said Catrina. “It’s not what you can do for me; it’s what I can do for you. I’m having a party, and you’re invited.”

“How wonderful,” said Sophia. “What can I bring?”

“Nothing at all,” said Catrina. “There’s going to be lots of food. Just bring yourself.”

“Oh, no,” said Sophia, “I must bring something!”

“Well, if you insist,” said Clever Catrina, “bring anything you’d like. I’m making a carrot – the best carrot anyone has ever tasted.”

And so it went – all around the village, until every last woman, man and child had been invited to Catrina’s party. Catrina told everyone that they didn’t need to bring anything –  except themselves. And when all the grown-ups insisted that they did want to bring something, as grownups usually do? Catrina told them they could bring any food they wanted – plus their own chairs, and dishes, and a musical instrument if they had one.

When she was finished inviting all her neighbours, Catrina returned to her own little house. First, she tidied her front yard and swept all the dust from her steps. Then she gathered wildflowers and hung them from her door, and all along her fence. After that, she went inside and picked up her carrot. It wasn’t the most impressive carrot, to be honest, but it was all Catrina had. So she rubbed it with a little bit of olive oil, sprinkled it with salt, sliced it very carefully, and put it in the oven to roast. And then while her carrot was cooking, she changed into her best dress, and her best apron – the one with the fewest patches – and she even found a matching pair of stockings. Finally, when everything was ready – she sat beside the door and waited for her guests.

One by one, they started to arrive. Their arms were overflowing with good things – with food, and drink, and chairs, and dishes, with guitars and flutes and tambourines.

“Welcome!” said Catrina – and the party began.

Now I have to tell you, there was more food at that party than those villagers had ever seen – well at least since the last big party. And it was good food, too. Olives and dates and figs, walnuts and pine nuts and almonds, little cakes and sweet buns, cheeses and pickles – and a hundred other good things.

And there was a carrot. Oh, yes, we can’t forget that: a single, roasted carrot, cut into paper-thin slices and served on Catrina’s very best dish. And everyone agreed, it was the best carrot they’d ever tasted, even if they only got one paper-thin slice.

But it takes more than good food to make a party special. And there was more than good food. There was laughter, and singing, and the kind of music that makes you want to get up and dance.

Catrina and her guests laughed and sang late into the night. And when she finally went to bed near dawn, her icebox was filled with leftovers, her heart was filled with music, and her stomach – well, it was full, too. Good night, Clever Catrina!

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