Friday, December 1, 2023

5

Easton’s Enchanted Teas

 The small, silver bell above the door swung as Lyn watched Amelia leave, her words replaying over and over.

 It doesn’t need to be much. Even the little things help.

 Lyn felt like she’d received a kick she’d been in dire need of. She had helped three generations of Farnsworths in some manner or another. It seemed so small—a tea to bring back a good memory.

 The sun sank outside, shadows elongating around the austere shop. She really should be going if she wanted to turn her key into her landlord on time. But she made no effort to move.

 Maybe it was fine that the tea she made wasn’t anything huge. A bit of joy in the life of an aging man who could barely remember the face of his daughter. A thread of hope for a grieving family when all the world seemed to be crashing down.

 Lyn took a deep breath, memorizing the musty, floral scent that had been her life for so many years. She’d worked hard as an apprentice under her grandfather, then in other local enchanted tea shops until she’d finally been able to open this store on her own. She had to close down—she simply couldn’t afford not to. But perhaps that didn’t mean the effort had been a waste. Tougher than a weed in spring, she’d find a way to move on, just as she always had.

Her work had been small. Quiet. Yet life was made up mostly of small, quiet moments. She’d helped people a cup of tea at a time, in all its ordinary magic.

 With one last loving rap on the counter, Lyn shook herself out of her daze. Time to turn in the key to her landlord. No use dallying.

 She gathered her bag and crossed to the door, shoes clacking on the worn floorboards. Then, with a sharp twist, she locked the door of Easton’s Enchanted Teas for the final time.

 She might be old enough to be retired, but she was far too young to be tired.

And we know that God causes everything to work together for the good of those who love God and are called according to his purpose for them. 

   Romans 8:28