Two days before New Year’s, I took my daughter, my son-in-law, and their seven children to supper in a restaurant here in Front Royal, Virginia. Regulations require wearing a mask into this place, but once seated, off come those bits of paper and cloth, and diners may eat without covering their faces between bites. Seated at the tables around us were another 14 people enjoying their meals and the company of family and friends. Our masked waitress brought the menus, three boxes of crayons, and some paper, and the younger members of the crew were soon coloring away. Everyone, including the 3-year-old, put on a wonderful display of manners during the meal. Neither the children nor their parents had eaten in a restaurant for six months, and my daughter several times remarked how wonderful it felt to be “normal.” For all of us, the hour spent at that table brought …