Giving Thanks

The milk of human kindness

Photo by Timothy Eberly on Unsplash

In the heart of a bustling city, where autumn lingered in the crisp air, there wandered a woman without a home, burdened by the weight of solitude and hunger. Her weary feet shuffled along the pavement, tracing a path through the alleyways adorned with crumbling bricks and forgotten dreams.

Her name, Judith, lost among the city's symphony of voices, was a mere echo in the wind. Her eyes, once vibrant emeralds, now dulled by the harsh reality of life on the streets. She wore tattered rags that clung to her frail form, affirming the relentless passage of time.

As the golden hues of autumn leaves danced above her, the woman yearned for comfort, a respite from the biting chill that gnawed at her bones. Thanksgiving approached, and with it, the promise of warmth and nourishment that seemed forever elusive.

Through the winding streets she wandered, her footsteps echoing tales of sorrow. Her search became a quest for not only sustenance, but for a flicker of hope amidst the shadows of her existence. She sought a place, a refuge, where a warm Thanksgiving meal awaited her, a feast that would momentarily mend the fragments of her broken spirit.

She stepped into a church, its wooden doors creaking open, revealing a sanctuary adorned with flickering candlelight. The warmth embraced her, like a long-lost lover's embrace, as she sought solace within the hallowed walls.

The aroma of roasted turkey wafted through the air, mingling with the laughter and clinking of cutlery. In the dimly lit hall, tables stretched like a vast banquet, adorned with vibrant fruits and pies that whispered promises of sweet indulgence. Faces, both familiar and unfamiliar, gathered around, their eyes shining.

A gentle hand reached out, offering her a seat at the table, a place where she was no longer invisible. The woman without a home, her eyes brimming with gratitude, savored every morsel, felt a sense of belonging. She listened to the symphony of conversations, the laughter, and the stories told, woven like fragments of forgotten dreams finding their way back home.

In that moment, she remembered warmth was not merely the heat that emanated from a crackling hearth or the touch of a cozy blanket. It was the kindness of strangers, the generosity of a community, and the strength of the human spirit. And as the taste of pumpkin pie lingered on her lips, she found comfort in the empathetic and shared humanity.

Author’s Note

If you’re in the U.S. and celebrate, Happy Thanksgiving!

Wishing everyone everywhere days filled with joy, gratitude, and cherished moments shared with loved ones. May joy and laughter fill your home, your table abound with delicious food, and your hearts glow with warmth and thankfulness.

Upcoming…

• A flash fiction piece, third of three endings to The Beginning:

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