Monday, February 17, 2014

Joy (Part 2)

Before they even swallowed, though, the bell over the door jingled and a gust of chilly wind entered the room, along with a very Storm-Blue Brody. The women exchanged knowing glances and a surrendered shrug.

“Good day, Mr. Brody!” greeted Wendy.

“Oh, not such a good day, Miss Wendy,” Brody said with a heavy sigh. Joy poured a steaming cup of berry zinger tea (this client’s best tonic), and Lily led the old man by the hand to his favorite upholstered arm chair and foot stool. “The temperature has dropped considerably since last night, and the cold air finds every crack and cranny in my house, and heat is too expensive to keep up, and there is no use anyway because it will just seep out of those same cracks and crannies and make my arthritis flair up and then I can’t sleep and-“

“Now, now,” soothed Wendy, and patted his arm. “Let’s drink your tea and rest a while, and see what lovely, happy thoughts we can remember. Your arthritis is a sad and difficult condition, but some warmth and a nice massage will alleviate that soon enough.”

“Yes, and just think how much you love the shimmering crystals the frost makes on your windows, and how the wind tinkles the chimes on your front porch. Lily will sing your favorite songs to you, and I will remind you of all the joys and blessings you’ve been given this year.” Joy sat down beside him in another chair, Wendy continued to gently pat his shoulder, and Lily sat on the floor at his feet, and looked up at him with an irrepressible smile. The three of them kindly took turns cheering the old man, and slowly they saw that the icy tone of his storm-blue mind melted to resemble more of a mountain spring. The women knew they couldn’t change the color of anyone’s mind, but they could ease the sharpness and strengthen faded tones, and even stormy shades of blue could become calm and peaceful.

Mr. Brody fell asleep in his chair and took a nice nap for a few hours, much needed after the long nights of pain deep in his bones. While he dreamed, the women attended to other guests – the bitter Mustard Yellow mind of Mr. Polls, and the insecure and second-guessing Burnt Orange mind of Miss Wilma Sniffly. The women were tired by sunset when they closed and locked the front door of their office, but they felt pleased and content that they were able to bring so much hope, comfort, and joy to others.

“My friends,” Joy said as she linked her arms through Lily’s and Wendy’s, “we make a great team. With our abilities to console sadness, point to promise, and see only the best, we will be happy all our lives, and even better than that – we will bring happiness to everyone we meet!”

And this ideal could have been true, could have followed them all the days thereafter, if it wasn’t for the Deep Heartache that awaited them the very next day.

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