LITTLE MIRACLES

 

A series of essays….

STORIES CONNECT US WITH OUR PAST, PRESENT, AND FUTURE

….as seen through my eyes!

By: Jacqueline E Hughes

Stories are like miracles.

When you write a story, or a poem,

it’s like putting a message in a bottle

and throwing it into the ocean,

or throwing a life raft out to someone

you might never meet.  

You don’t know if your words will be read,

but when they travel into the heart of the right person,

at the right moment in time –  

that’s the miracle.   —Laura Lentz

Beautiful… Yes, it’s exactly like that. 

Each one of us is filled with collections of stories or poems to tell, recite, write down, and share with others. Each story is a small miracle caught in time and space with its own purpose to fulfill while rendering a personal journey into a vast world presented to us as the ultimate gift to ourselves; a breath of fresh ideas consciously created, honed in on, and then handed out to others to be shared, compared, and analyzed. And, for good reason.

Humans, although connected in mind and spirit in one way or another, are still prone to underestimate these little miracles gifted to us by others. How often do we finish reading a good book, note to self that we liked it very much, but then wait for something, anything, to trigger its memory enough to discuss it with others? The story becomes the message in a bottle thrown out to sea. Secretly hoping that it is found, read, and appreciated by someone else as time goes by. 

This is why books, poems, short stories (little miracles), can become the life raft thrown out to someone we might never meet. If we are fortunate enough to be able to write our own stories and have them connect with others who, at any particular moment, needed them as they touched their heart or led them in a stable, positive direction in life…our job becomes apparent even if we haven’t a clue about what just happened. 

Perhaps our stories remind someone of their own childhood. Good memories, long forgotten, become refreshed and nearly tangible, once again. That’s a small miracle. Or, wanting to know more details about our people, places, and times that helped shape our own lives might be found in listening to stories of our elders; those only too happy to pass these stories down to a generation who is willing to listen. What a great miracle of life this would be for everyone. Poetry is a form of storytelling that bleeds from the storyteller’s heart. It is meant to open up a new way of thinking that washes over us and fills our being until nothing but truth courses through our veins like the indispensable lifeblood giving us strength and vitality to carry-on. This can be a life changing miracle; a poet’s gift to others.

The author, poet, life coach, and educator, Laura Lentz, strikes a chord in all of us when she attributes storytelling to being miracles. Like Cupid’s arrow that may or may not hit its mark, with all good intentions applied, even if we don’t know if our words will ever be read, “…when they travel into the heart of the right person, at the right moment in time - that’s the miracle.”

This is the encouragement required to keep people writing the stories; composing their poetry. Should they happen to strike home and earn a place in your heart, always be grateful for these little miracles. Learn all you can from them. Pass them along to others. Even though they may never know it, you will be making storytellers all over the world happy about what they do. Writers keep writing and readers, enjoy and continue to read!!

Copyright © 2023 by Jacqueline E Hughes

All rights reserved

COFFEEHOUSE CHATTER: DOING THE BEST YOU CAN!

 

A series of essays….

LIFE…COFFEEHOUSE STYLE ~ RINGING IN 2022!

….as seen through my eyes!

 Author’s Note: This story was first published in Moving On… back in December of 2016; now tweaked a bit here and there. Occasionally, I go back into my archive of stories and select something to share, once again, with you, my readers in mind. Just in case you missed it. May we comfortably return to this lifestyle (being close to others) without fear in the weeks and months to come…and forevermore!

By: Jacqueline E Hughes

The neighborhood coffeehouse is a refuge for those seeking conversation with friends, free WiFi, a cozy corner to create in, a good coffee and tea selection, as well as a little peace and solitude....especially during the hustle and bustle of this holiday season. You, my friends, will come up with more, but three places that make me feel subdued to the point of gentle whispers and soft, controlled movements are places of worship, libraries, and our local coffeehouse.

You might think otherwise about the noise level within our coffeehouse since most of us do gather with the direct purpose of talking, reuniting with old friends, and conducting business. Even so, each time I swing open the large, double French doors, my visual consists of pockets of interesting people but, my audio, like music to my ears, includes everything from the hissing of the espresso machine to the inquisitive expressions of the barista trying to determine if an order is for 'here' or 'to go.'

My tall mug of Brazilian light roast was meant for a leisurely visit 'here' with ample opportunity to imagine the thoughts and conversations going on around me. I promise myself to always be discreet as I snuggle into a comfortable spot at a corner table. From this vantage point, even facial expressions can tell a story and my imagination takes flight. After all, subtle observation with a certain degree of discretion is a writer's persona. It may be cold outside, but the warmth of coffee and conversation inside lends a festive atmosphere with the holidays only a few days away...

Interpreted thoughts on my part:

BRYAN: (Sitting at a small table alone, with sketch pad in hand. Quizzical look on his young, rugged face.) Man, I needed this cuppa this morning! I hope my friend (Josh...shall we say?) isn't snowed in. I need his opinion and text on this sketch of mine. Whew.... Glad I'm a graphic designer right about now instead of pursuing creative writing at State. I don't think I could adequately put into words what I'm feeling at this moment, or make any sense of what's happening in this crazy world today. Anyway, at least I can draw my feelings and hope the people in the know approve of them. (Looks back down at the watch on his left wrist.)

**********

MILLY: (Seasoned looking writer near a small window. Apple i-Pad opened in front of her. Fingers poised over the add-on keyboard. Salt & pepper hair is windblown with Hippie-like intent.)   Merde!!! I need another cup of coffee. Why…my hands aren't even shaking yet!! (Smile grows on her soft, crepe-aged face) Submitting this one later this afternoon, old girl! I've been successfully creating poetry for ages now and, I'm so grateful that the thoughts and ideas keep flowing. Seems this place has offered me warmth, inspiration and lots of coffee over the years. (Scrutinizing the bold-faced watch on her left arm) Well, still time to check Facebook for a few minutes. Remember to get a to-go cup for the chilly walk home later... 

**********

ALICE: (Swirling her teabag to the point of frustration. Waiting for someone to join her...soon. Lines crease her forehead. Her young, pretty face aging with each tick of the 'cup-n-saucer' clock that hangs on the wall above her.) Well, Merry Christmas to me!!! And, I thought I was so smart! He'd better get here soon before I turn into a blubbering, hot mess!! I'm not ready for this. This wasn't planned. This is not how I wanted it to play out for us. Well, he's not going to run. (Her deep blue eyes squinting at the French door entryway) Neither one of us is ready to be a parent.... But, it will work out. We'll make it work out together because, damn it....I love him so much!

**********

Snapping back into reality, I see that Bryan's friend, (Josh, perhaps?), has arrived, kicking snow from his shoes, coffee in hand. Milly is sipping the third cup of 'strong black' I've seen since perching myself in this corner observation deck. And, it appears that our beautiful, young Alice has lost her nerve, abandoned her tea and abruptly exited through the swinging French doors! "Those who say there's nothing like a nice cup of tea for calming the nerves never had ‘real’ tea. It's like a syringe of adrenaline straight to the heart!" so quotes the Cheshire Cat. Now, I sit here hoping that I wasn't actually right about our sweet Alice. That wouldn't be fair to this young lady I’ve been secretly observing, at all!

Polite observations:

LADY IN RED: (Sipping a cafe mocha for pleasure and warmth) I am so blessed this year. All of our kids and 'kiddles' will be coming home for the holidays. Even Randy is on a week's leave from his latest tour in Afghanistan! 

LADY IN BLUE: Does everyone know about Randy coming home?

LADY IN RED: No, and Paul and I don't know if we should spill the beans, so to speak, or keep it as a major surprise for everyone. What do you think? Oh, I'm so excited!

LADY IN BLUE: (Gently placing her coffee cup on the small, round tabletop) Then, I say....let it be one of the biggest and best gifts you could possible give to all of his siblings. They will appreciate it forever, my friend. Merry Christmas!

LADY IN RED: (As tears pour down her cheeks like spring raindrops feeding the flowers, surely, to arrive, she hugs her friend in BLUE and whispers in her ear) Yes, a very Merry Christmas, indeed.....

**********

OLD MAN: Finished shopping yet?

OLD WOMAN: (Sadness in her voice) No. It's difficult doing everything myself.

OLD MAN: (Slowly tipping his cup to his lips) You know I hate to shop.

OLD WOMAN: I know. Life is rough. (Inadvertently squishing her spent teabag with her fingertip as it rests in the bowl of her spoon) I'll manage. I always do.

OLD MAN: The kids will all arrive tomorrow night, you know.

OLD WOMAN: (Glimmer of hope in her eyes) I'm aware of that. Maybe Mary will give me a hand then.

OLD MAN: More tea?

**********

FATHER: (Both hands clasped to his steaming, white porcelain mug) Damn, it's cold out there! I don't think your Mother and I can take this bitter cold anymore.

SON: (Late thirty-something) Dad, don't start talking about Florida again. You and Mom have lived here all of your life. And, besides, your grandchildren would miss you guys!

FATHER: And, that's the stickler.....! We can't live without them, either. They grow and change so much every day. It's like watching you and your brother grow-up all over again. (Lips pursed, eyes staring, deep in thought) But, we are going to discuss Florida....right now.

SON: (Sloshing coffee on the tabletop as he, abruptly, places his mug down on the hard surface) What are you talking about? What do you and Mom have up your sleeve? Can't we talk about this after we all open our presents and enjoy Christmas dinner? Dad....come on. Have a heart.

FATHER: (With a smile on his handsome face) Well, we offer a compromise, at the risk of being labeled 'snowbirds,' that is. Mom and I have a date with a realtor in Naples next Saturday. We're flying down at the end of the week. We'll be looking for a place to stay for a two-month stint, beginning in January and through the 'rough stuff' up here in February. 

SON: (Looking, slightly, relieved) You'll keep your house up here? It'll be a temporary getaway, then? Only two months?

FATHER: Yep! Your Mom and I love you guys way too much to make it permanent. (Winking) We're just looking for a short respite.

SON: I think all of us can deal with that. I love you, Dad.

The proverbial 'cherry on top!':

YOUNG WOMAN: (Slouching and whining on her side of the cushioned, faux-leather booth) I have to warm-up!!! It's freezing out there! My fingers are numb. 

YOUNG MAN: (Determination on his face) I'll be right back. They just called our order.

YOUNG WOMAN: (Moments later) Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.....! Let me get my hands around that delicious, steaming-hot mug......where are you going, baby? Did you forget something? (Total shock on her pretty face) What are you doing? I don't believe it! Oh, my goodness, you are not down on one knee!!!

YOUNG MAN: Do you remember the first time we had coffee here, babe?

YOUNG WOMAN: Ah, yes, yes I do. (Trembling) It was about two years ago. It was right before Christmas. OMG, it was exactly two years ago! 

YOUNG MAN: I think we knew then that there might have been something magical about the coffee they serve here, or something, because we both knew it was love, long before we ever said it. Right?

YOUNG WOMAN: I think that's why we come back so often. We fell in love here. Oh, sweetheart...

YOUNG MAN: (Pulling a small, black box from his coat pocket and flipping it open) Then...is there a better way to celebrate the magic for the rest of our lives? Will you marry me?

(The entire coffeehouse is silent, not even the baristas are making their happy sounds and you could, truly, hear a pin drop to the floor.)

YOUNG WOMAN: (Electrifying pause!) Of course I will! I love you so much! Here's to Christmas Magic....!

(The patrons and staff breathe out with a collective sign of relief and excitement as the Young Man slips the ring on her finger. Loud cheers for the happy couple and ecstatic applause reverberates from every nook and cranny of the little, rustic coffeehouse. The snow is dusting everything in sight outside the old and drafty, wooden windows in anticipation of the 'Big Man' himself gliding onto the rooftops in a few days time. The magic of life itself is, definitely, in the air!)

 A VERY HAPPY AND HEALTHY NEW YEAR TO ALL!

Copyright © 2021 by Jacqueline E Hughes

All rights reserved