Wisdom in a Cup

I swear sometimes she steeped wisdom in that cup. Sipping methodically as she listened to the conversation. Never judging, always hearing the story, as if only the truth was spoken. It would impart upon the story teller the need to be honest. No matter how painful.

I’m sure that cup was full the day Maggie, her only daughter, told her she was with child. 

Fragile china, the cup had held the heat of whatever was poured, much like Ann McCabe, a reminder that forgiveness and understanding sometimes need to be steeped. 

Three Old, Wise, Men

They were far from the typical nuclear family in their day. And frankly, they didn’t care. What they cared about was that little girl. The three old men had taken on the duty of father, mother, disciplinarian. Carried with honor, they bore it together. And despite the sad turn of fate that brought them to rally around the child, there was much joy among them. 

Raised in the manner you would expect three men would. “No silly girl things.” Her words, not theirs. Ornery, perhaps crotchety to some, when it came to Jess, well, all bets were off. On that Christmas, when her small hand reached for the barn door to reveal her four hoofed present, I would be hard pressed to say who was more giddy, the little girl or three old, wise, men.

Purity and Richness

The spirit of the season lifts us all up each year. Whether we want it to or not, caught in the rush of the shoppers, the flush of a child’s cheek at the first glimpse of St. Nick, or the sound of laughter as snowballs from freshly fallen snow fly. All are caught up, lifted to the season, in our small town…except perhaps, for the Doc.

He hides it behind his supposed gruffness. Lets folks think it’s just his normal demeanor. But those of us who have lived around the old man long enough know that this season filled with the pure whiteness of new beginnings and the rich red of holiday happenings, well it’s not the norm. His white falls to a yellowed page and his red is one of loss. A secret lives on in him through every season, even this one. Maybe someday the purity, the richness will return…maybe.