Old Mac Johnson's farm was an unlikely spot for a place of pilgrimage but he was grateful nonetheless. Most people around these parts wouldn't call themselves particularly religious, but when things get bad we all need a place to turn. We can find our faith tested, and our hope hanging by a thread. Rumour got out his was the only well for a hundred miles in any direction, and they were technically right. What they didn't know was that there were sixteen others that had been lost with time...but that didn't matter, as his was the one chosen.

Things round these parts had been going wrong a lot recently. There'd been the long drought three years back that lasted all Summer. Then a year later the harsh cruel Winter where the cattle froze solid out in the fields. Temperatures dropped so low that there were amber warnings for months on end. People were already hit bad by that time, and most folks were reeling by the time of the financial crises. As if Covid and fuel price hikes weren't bad enough, but there's been a local mass shooting close by in their neighbouring town and it really shook the local people up. Things were about as bad as they had been in a long long time. Spirits were lower than the Ranelphi Creek in late July and people admittedly were looking to small salvation's to make them feel good again.

Jim Barton was the local vet. He often rode out to Old Mac's farm to check on what was left of his livestock.
"Howdy Jim," was always the warm and welcoming reception he got from visiting each time. He knew the old timer didn't have much, but there was always hot coffee on the stove and they'd shoot the breeze about the world's problems and how their own little town was suffering miserably. Jim was young, he'd only just qualified, and most folks round there called him "greenhorn" behind his back and wouldn't hire him. He'd cut his prices practically to half and still they chose competitors. But Old Mac not only took him on without a moments hesitation, but he filled the young man with confidence.

"Well thank you kindly son for dropping by. You always do right good work at no mistake and I'm sure to spread the word to tell folks that."
Jim smiled for the first time in a long time. He was feeling so good, he couldn't stop smiling. In fact he felt so positive that when Mac wasn't looking he'd flipped a coin down that old well of his and wished for happier times. When he sped away in his truck he saw the kindly old man in the rearview and felt sorry for him. It must be lonely on the farm with no close relatives about, and he knew his wife had died ten years back of cancer.

That day Jim birthed successfully fifteen calves for a farm the other side of town, all the animals were healthy and all were easy births. Jim had been dreading it.
"Must be my lucky day," he said to the farmer who was delighted.
"I reckon it is son," came the farmer's smiling response," I guess some of that luck rubbed off on me and my cattle. I couldn't have afforded to lose either the newborns or their mothers in the process."
"Well I reckon we've Old Mac's well to thank for that," came Jim's flippant aside.
"How's that?" asked the curious farmer.
"Oh, I was at his farm and dropped a coin in his wishing well."
"And what did ya wish for?"
"To have a successful and easy day, and I just about reckon I have," said Jim beaming as the farmer paid him.

The next day Old Mac heard car tyres pulling into his drive. "Unusual," he thought, "ain't had a lot of visitors, I wonder who this is?" And it wasn't barely two minutes that George Holter from the farm across town had got out of his wagon than Mac was sure enough right there greeting him warmly.
"Well howdy George," he said enthusiastically," I haven't seen you since that Auction four years back, how's Martha?" George's face lit up, he loved telling anyone who'd listen how his beautiful family was doing.
"Come in young fella, I got plenty of breakfast cooking and I miss company over the mornin' meal."
"Oh Mac I'm sorry, I didn't wanna intrude."
"Nonesense man, it's good to see you, you're welcome anytime, regardless of what ya came for."
They laughed a long time that morning and it wasn't till early afternoon that George left. He too managed to drop a coin down the wishing well.

And that afternoon he went straight into town and in celebration he bought his wife some flowers.
"You seem happy George, is it your anniversary or Martha's birthday?"
"Oh Mabel no, it's just me feeling good and bringing home a nice surprise for the love of my life. I was with Old Mac this mornin' out on Hornsby Ridge, and we had the best time. Seeing him all on his own made me realize just how lucky I am. If that old coot can be so darned positive at his age, all on his ownsome, then I'm sure I can be. And besides, Jim that nice young vet who did a superb job the other day for me delivering fifteen new calves, he told me about Mac's wishing well. I reckoned I'd go along and chuck a penny in for luck."
"And did it work?" asked Mabel as her husband came out to see what the enthusiastic raised voices were all about.
"Well I had the best time before I even dropped my coin so I reckon it sure does, and I couldn't feel any more glad for what I have right now!"

That evening after they shut the shop, Mabel and her husband got in their car and sped on down to Old Mac's farm. All day they'd been telling folk about Jim and his skills as a vet as told to them by George Holter, who everybody knew as a decent and honest guy. Jim had already had five new inquiries about his services and his phone had never rung so much. He was riding the wave of good fortune and blamed it all on that wishing well. Meantime George's wife, who'd had a very bad day lit up when she saw the flowers. She cried for nearly ten whole minutes before she accepted it was just a kind gesture from her husband and not the precursor to some bad news. She phoned all her friends about his beautiful loving gesture and connected it all to the wishing well.

Old Mac was so happy as Mabel and Alf stepped out of the car bearing a bottle and a homemade pecan pie.
"Howdy y'all, what a delight. I haven't seen you both since you did the wife and me the honour of all those beautiful bouquets at her funeral. My they were something else, just perfect to lift the heart with their beautiful colours and arrangements."
Mabel smiled and Alf had a tear in his eye. She was the brains and people person to their little business, but secretly it was her husband who made up the flowers. He'd always had a nack and delight in knowing just how to put together a special floral show. He was shy, and they always said it was his wife who made them. Nobody knew, but he took such pride in his work, and instantly both felt love and appreciation in their hearts for hard work recognized.
"Why thank you," said Alf graciously without even thinking, and his wife took his arm and agreed.
"Well it's a right nice pleasure seeing you both, to what do I owe the honour?"
They felt it too wrong to say their real intentions after such a hospitable welcome, so they all went into the house to share a drink and a chat, and a tasty bit of scrumptious pecan pie.

By sunset his two guests were leaving and Old Mac felt wired. He was buzzing with the thrill of having two guests on one day. Truth be known he hadn't had a guest in six months apart from young Jim the new vet. It was so good again to laugh in a home that had so many memories. But the creaking floorboards and moans of the timber walls were all that he usually had to answer him. He was curious when he saw the lovely couple pop over to his well and chuck something in, but he gave it little or no mind....until the next day.

Now let it not be said Mac Johnson was not a generous and patient man. It seemed that within the next few days word had spread of his wishing well, and the good folks of his town were all coming to pay him a visit and bring gifts of friendship or just come shoot the breeze. On leaving they'd all drop a coin down that old well of his, but they were on such a high of elation returning on that dusty old Hornsby Ridge road that they felt their fortunes would undoubtedly be changing. And they did, for the brightness and good cheer was spreading; the wishing well was real. Every single guest was met with a "Howdy-doo," and a beaming smile. From cups of tea to beers on the porch, the good folks of Coombesville came a knocking...and Old Mac was glad of the company. He'd never felt so delighted since he'd lost the love of his life. Now he had people to share that love with, to spread the abundance of happiness and generosity within him. And each one who left, feeling special and made to feel welcome, they dropped a coin into that well and wished for these good times to never end.

Indeed, the U-turn was upon them, and their ill fates seemed to have lifted. The townsfolk were seen chatting and laughing and sharing stories and remembrances of happier times. Old Mac had awoken something in their hearts, a hope they didn't know was resting curled up like a seed inside. Each smile, each conversation and joyous new greeting saw the storm clouds dissipate. Of course, the bad times hadn't really left them, they were still there, but they all found them easier to handle. And Old Mac, he was so thrilled to have his old friends visit, and meet plenty of new ones too.

Things were just so lucky for him right now, and he did something he hadn't done since he and the wife had shared on the last evening she died. He dropped a coin down that old well of his, and wished she knew how much he still loved her.