Jess looked up at the night sky so full of stars. She’d tried Christmas spirit. She’d baked Stollen for her mom. Then she drove to Nikki’s to knock back a few and suppress her sense of diminishing expectations.
Once she wanted to be a doctor. Now she was a waitress with a car loan and a DUI, courtesy of the police checkpoint on Christmas! On Christmas? Where was the message of hope in that?
A lawyer Jess couldn’t afford advised doing community service before her court date. Here she stood outside Twelfth House Shelter, staring at the heavens. “If you’re cookin’ tonight, you’re late,” said an angry voice from the porch.
“As usual,” Jess muttered.
The voice became a tall man holding the door. Inside Jess found a donated roast, crumbly tortillas, rusty lettuce and cheese. The man watched her from a stool, barking directions as to the shelf for pans, the bin for onions. An hour later two burrito casseroles steamed on the counter, and Jess served twenty plates with casserole, salad and canned peas. The tall man came back for seconds, then he smiled.
“Thanks. Bless you.”
Jess felt tears as she smiled back, grateful.
Mary Ellen Davis [Colorado Springs, CO] works for KRCC-FM, the NPR affiliate for southern Colorado and is marketing her first novel.
© 2008 Mary Ellen Davis. Original for CCF. (Davis grants CCF first electronic rights for one month; CCF may archive the material indefinitely and include it in an eBook anthology).
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