An Elderly Woman in a Small Town on Thanksgiving, fiction
“Hello?”
“Hi, Donna. Is the family coming to see you?”
“Not this year.”
“Well don’t make any dinner plans, okay?” Francis said.
Later, the Clark family filed out of their house, carefully carrying steaming pots and glass containers.
When she saw her neighbors walking up the steps, Donna’s eyes glistened.
(In case you were wondering, Pearl Jam’s song, Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town, inspired my story’s title. Though the song lyrics and this story are vastly different, I couldn’t help myself!)
Thanks to all who read and write “by the fire” with me. You’ve made this a special place, and I am grateful for our connection!
She barely understood what she was telling the customer calling about his bill. Her first month on this job had been so disheartening. After she explained the solution to him, he thanked her, saying how well she spoke and she had a promising future. Hanging up, she burst into tears.
When we are on the receiving end of abuse, it is the most difficult lesson in gratitude...we learn, sometimes years later, what we must never do. This is a gem, Sharron!
Yes, children understand that something is wrong and feel the pain, but understanding of what they are learning doesn't come until they are grown... Thanks, Sharon
The black crows, standing measured spaces apart on the line, appear stark against the afternoon clouds, threatening to rupture any moment. It’s a cold day in our beach town, and I’m feeling grateful to to be home, in my little cabin, with a warm fire in the pot bellied stove.
Gratitude fills a saucy dish passed around the table. Shaking hands expression during fine, dining discourse, drinking in each moment—champagne effervescence.
Warm words without smoke. Inspiration – deep breath moments received. Life, the universe,says: Please, thank you. Becomes a nod of the head. Freedom to pass, no road rage.
“One quibble with your sermon. I’m no ingrate. I’m grateful when something’s given me. But I’ve earned everything I have.”
Pastor chuckled. “Im grateful for that thinking. Keeps me employed.” Then serious. “I’m more grateful for our God, who loves folks like you, me, everyone really, just as we are.”
An Elderly Woman in a Small Town on Thanksgiving, fiction
“Hello?”
“Hi, Donna. Is the family coming to see you?”
“Not this year.”
“Well don’t make any dinner plans, okay?” Francis said.
Later, the Clark family filed out of their house, carefully carrying steaming pots and glass containers.
When she saw her neighbors walking up the steps, Donna’s eyes glistened.
(In case you were wondering, Pearl Jam’s song, Elderly Woman Behind the Counter in a Small Town, inspired my story’s title. Though the song lyrics and this story are vastly different, I couldn’t help myself!)
Thanks to all who read and write “by the fire” with me. You’ve made this a special place, and I am grateful for our connection!
-Justin
What the Holiday is about. This. Beautiful, Justin!
Thank you for reading, Sharon!
Beautiful. Happy Thanksgiving.
Thank you, Scott. Happy Thanksgiving to you and yours!
Golly, Justin. You get me every time. That the whole family took the gift of food over to the lonely woman, made it extra special.
Thank you, Sharron. That’s very kind of you to say. After Monday’s story I wanted to sweeten things up a bit!
Very fine!
A Client's Gift
She barely understood what she was telling the customer calling about his bill. Her first month on this job had been so disheartening. After she explained the solution to him, he thanked her, saying how well she spoke and she had a promising future. Hanging up, she burst into tears.
Kindness offers a ripple effect that we don’t always see. A lovely message, Sue, and a tale well told!
Thank you, Justin.
There is gratitude in the giving, as well as the receiving. Such a beautiful exchange, Sue!
Thank you.
Kindness in the smallest things - it adds up.
Thank you.
GRATITUDE, 🌿 prose poem
For what her stepfather taught her, she’s grateful.
For all the years of her young life, he provided the perfect model
of selfishness and parental irresponsibility.
We learn from the goodness around us,
but we also learn from the meanness and the ignorance.
We must give thanks in every thing.
When we are on the receiving end of abuse, it is the most difficult lesson in gratitude...we learn, sometimes years later, what we must never do. This is a gem, Sharron!
Yes, children understand that something is wrong and feel the pain, but understanding of what they are learning doesn't come until they are grown... Thanks, Sharon
So very true, Sharron. Loved this!
Powerful
Afternoon Comfort~CNF
The black crows, standing measured spaces apart on the line, appear stark against the afternoon clouds, threatening to rupture any moment. It’s a cold day in our beach town, and I’m feeling grateful to to be home, in my little cabin, with a warm fire in the pot bellied stove.
What a lovely story, Sharon!
Thank you, Justin!
Home, yes, and safety. I feel as if I am with you there.
It is a feeling that is especially comforting, this year, Sharron.
Yes. I understand.
Gorgeous
Thanks, Scott. I'm glad you enjoyed it!
Gratitude: Prose poem
Gratitude fills a saucy dish passed around the table. Shaking hands expression during fine, dining discourse, drinking in each moment—champagne effervescence.
Warm words without smoke. Inspiration – deep breath moments received. Life, the universe,says: Please, thank you. Becomes a nod of the head. Freedom to pass, no road rage.
There’s always a poetic elegance about your writing that I admire, Richard. Thanks for sharing!
Rich imagery flows out onto the page, and to my senses, Richard. Beautiful words of kindness, and civility. All things to be grateful for!
You’re Welcome/Fiction
“One quibble with your sermon. I’m no ingrate. I’m grateful when something’s given me. But I’ve earned everything I have.”
Pastor chuckled. “Im grateful for that thinking. Keeps me employed.” Then serious. “I’m more grateful for our God, who loves folks like you, me, everyone really, just as we are.”
Nicely done, Scott. Great story!
Nice lesson in gratitude. I like this pastor!
Gratitude AND attitude!
👍🏻 Clever pastor.
Left Hanging-fiction
She was grateful that he cut the rope.
He didn’t have to, she knew.
So, she was grateful.
Otherwise, she’d have been hanging there all night.
As it was, she was
still bound, and left in the dark.
In the barn, hiding in the hayloft.
Plotting her revenge.
An excellent opening line, Kim. One that compelled us to read further.
Thanks for that feedback, Sharron. 😘
I need to learn to write more like this. I'm terrible at fiction.
PS: also watching too many movies with badass chicks getting revenge on someone who really deserves it!
I agree with Sharron, Kim! That first line is perfect. Also, for what it’s worth, I think you’re a very good fiction writer.
Thanks for sharing! 😀
Thanks, Justin. That's sweet of you to say. ☺️
I just need to work harder.
Christmas Past
In the attic of memory, I unpack each December -
Mom's hands dusting sugar on snickerdoodles,
Dad wrestling with tangled lights, muttering softly.
Their laughter mingles with tinsel and pine,
floating like ornaments in time's gentle snow globe,
where they remain forever hanging stockings, forever young and whole, still here.
Such a breathtaking and beautiful poem, Gloria. It’s perfect! 💛
Thank you. I always miss my parents so very much this time of year.