Miss Harriet hung her purse on one of several hooks on the wall in the white entryway. Katherine noticed a narrow stairway, with a floral rug running down its steps like a cascade of blossoms. To the left was the kitchen, with a large window above the sink, which looked out on a charming window box of the same sweet-smelling plant that draped over the edges of the basket on the porch.

The older lady led the way to the “sitting room”, as she called the large room at the back of the house which overlooked the garden, and the ocean beyond. Katherine gazed in silent awe at the view. Miss Harriet’s garden was immaculate; though, when she would have had time to work in it, Katherine hardly knew.

They walked out the quaint old-fashioned back door onto a cobbled walkway. The wooden screen door creaked closed, then all was still, save the quiet roar of the ocean, the soft hum of bumblebees, and the faint cry of seagulls in the distance.

“Oh, Miss Harriet!” Katherine said breathlessly, once she could find the words. “It’s beautiful! How do you ever bring yourself to leave it in the mornings?”

Miss Harriet smiled, and replied, “Well, I do have an equally lovely tea shop to lure me away, now don’t I?” Then she turned down a side path that led towards a raised garden bed near the white fence. “I have a couple of leeks here, just ready to be picked. They’ll do nicely!”

Katherine gave a puzzled smile. “Leeks?”

“Yes, they’re sort of an onion, or at least, they must be related somehow. I grew up with them in England, and I always try to grow some myself. They’re one of the foods I fix when I get to feeling homesick, but I think they’ll be just right for tonight.” She gave a sharp tug to a thick bunch of woody leaves, and the whole plant popped out of the ground.

“See?” Miss Harriet said, triumphantly holding the long plant above her head, “This is a leek, and you’re about to discover how delicious it is.” Miss Harriet handed the vegetable to Katherine, then turned and pulled up another. She led the way into the house, and as the screen door creaked and banged shut behind them, she looked fondly at the leek and said with an air of decision, “Leek ‘n’ bacon, I think.”

For all her experience working in restaurants and now the tearoom, Katherine had never cooked much for herself. There were, in fact only a few foods she actually knew how to make. She watched eagerly as Miss Harriet rinsed the dirt off the leek and pulled out a cutting board.

“Now, my dear, they’re a bit tricky. I’ll show you how to wash this one, and then you can do the other yourself.” Then she turned and deftly whisked an apron off a hook in the corner of the kitchen. “Here you go, Dearie, you’ll want this by the time we’re through.” Katherine quickly slipped the apron over her head and tied the strings behind her.

“First, you cut the leaves and the roots off—so.”

Katherine watched the woman’s deft movements, trying to catalogue the steps in her mind. Miss Harriet then cut the long white stem into quarters, revealing that what looked from the outside to be a solid stalk was really a bundle of thin layers.

“This might just be the most important part.” Miss Harriet said, handing two of the quarters to Katherine. “See how the layers fall apart so easily? Well, there’s dirt between some of them, and we must be sure to get all of it rinsed out.” The two washed the long bundles of leeks, then Miss Harriet showed Katherine how small they needed to be chopped.

“I’ll just put the water on to boil and get a pan heating up for the bacon.” Miss Harriet moved swiftly around the kitchen. It was well-organized and had obviously been arranged with care. Katherine could tell that her employer had put just as much thought into the management of her home kitchen as she had that of the tea room’s much larger one.

“Miss Harriet,” Katherine asked, running water between the layers of the second leek. “How did you come to live here? I mean, why did you leave England?”

“For the same reason many young folks first leave home, I suppose. I came to the States for school. I think Mother thought it would give me a grand adventure before settling down at home again to raise a family. She had some friends back east who had offered to take me in and let me live with them a year or two while I attended college.”

Katherine finished chopping the leeks and put them into a bowl.

“What did you study at college?”

“Oh,” Miss Harriet replied with a laugh, “this and that. I was so full of ambition then. One year it was culinary school, the next, a major in horticulture. I finally settled on a business degree. I suppose the practical side of my nature won out in the end.”

“Well, I for one, am very glad you chose a tearoom over horticulture.” Katherine said teasingly. “I finished these.” She continued, “What’s next?”

“Have you ever made a roux?” Miss Harriet asked.

Katherine frowned, then answered with a chuckle: “No. At least, if I have, I didn’t know it.”

“Well, then, we’ll begin your culinary schooling.” Miss Harriet replied laughingly.

She showed Katherine how to melt butter and stir in flour, then let it bubble for a minute or two before adding the milk. The resultant sauce was a bit lumpy, but Miss Harriet encouraged Katherine by entertaining her with stories of disastrous sauces from her culinary school days.

“The leeks are boiled nicely, so we’ll just fish them out and pop them into that bowl of cold water over there, so they stop cooking.”

Katherine did as Miss Harriet had instructed, and then moved over to the stove to superintend the bacon, which had just begun to sizzle deliciously.

“This is really just a Welsh Rabbit, with bacon and leeks added in.” Miss Harriet explained, stirring grated cheese into Katherine’s sauce, while at the same time discreetly flattening out some of the bigger lumps with the back of her spoon.

“I’ve always wondered: why is it called Welsh Rabbit if it hasn’t got any rabbit in it?”

“I don’t know for sure. I’ve always heard that it was called that because the Welsh peasants were so poor, they couldn’t afford meat. So, they called it rabbit, as a sort of joke, or perhaps because they enjoyed the irony of it. Some call it Welsh Rabbit, and others Welsh Rarebit, but I’ve never heard what rarebit means. I expect it’s just a lazy way of saying rabbit.” She shrugged her shoulders and kept stirring.

Soon the bacon was finished, and all the ingredients were combined. The result was a thick cheesy sauce with chunks of bacon and leek in it. Miss Harriet got out two plates and popped two thick slices of homemade bread in the toaster. Then she and Katherine carried the food into the “dining room”, which was really just one side of the larger sitting room with a small dining table and four chairs.

Miss Harriet gave thanks, and the two began to eat. Katherine closed her eyes and savored the first bite.

“Mmm… that’s delicious!” she took another bite before continuing, “Did you learn how to make this that year you spent in culinary school?”

“Oh, no, Dearie. I learned this recipe in my Mama’s kitchen when I was about eight years old. We had this often when I was a girl.” A smile spread over Miss Harriet’s face, and Katherine knew she was remembering earlier days. Then, Miss Harriet took a breath and looked up at Katherine.

“I forgot to ask. Are you planning to visit your parents for Thanksgiving?”

Katherine looked down at her plate, suddenly intent on spearing a piece of bacon with her fork. Miss Harriet went on.

“It’s just that I always close the tearoom that day, and I’m sure we can spring you loose for as many other days as you need if you’ll be travelling.”

“Well, I hadn’t planned to. It’s a long way to go, and there’s not really anywhere for me to stay there.”

“Have you been invited?”

“Yes, but I really don’t see how—”

“Katherine,” Miss Harriet interrupted, suddenly cheerful, “Did you know, we don’t celebrate Thanksgiving in England like you do here.”

“I guess that’s because the Pilgrims’ colony ended up American, instead of English.” Katherine said with a shrug, puzzled, but relieved by the seeming change of topic.

“Yes, and remind me, what was it they were celebrating, those pilgrims of yours?”

Katherine’s eyes lit up, as they always did when she talked about anything to do with history. “Well, their first winter was very hard, and they had lost more than half the people. No one was certain they would even survive in the new land. But by the time the harvest was brought in the next fall, they had enough to last them through the winter and they had made friends with the Indians. So, they all had a celebration to thank God for all the good things He had provided.”

Miss Harriet gave a sly smile and exclaimed unconvincingly, “That’s right! Now I remember.” Miss Harriet’s studied her plate for a few moments, before looking thoughtfully up at Katherine and asking, “Do you believe God has provided good things for you?”

“Of course I do.” Katherine began to squirm inwardly under Miss Harriet’s kind but searching gaze.

“And,” the older woman continued gently, “has God provided you with your parents?”

Katherine saw now where Miss Harriet’s questions were leading, and looked away, replying quietly, “I don’t know… I guess so.”

Miss Harriet leaned forward and reached over the small table for Katherine’s hand. “My dear, I know it might feel difficult or awkward or even painful to see them, but I also know that God doesn’t make mistakes. He gave you those same parents for a reason, and I know it’s probably not my place to say it, but I believe you should spend Thanksgiving with them, because they are part of what God has provided you out of His goodness.”

“But.. how can you, of all people, say that?”

“Because I know that my parents—both my parents—were who God intended me to have. He knew my father would abandon us, but He also knew all the good He would do for and through my mother as a result of my father’s wrongdoing. He knew the lessons of forgiveness, patience, and love He would teach us. He knew it all and planned it all for my good. After all, God says that He works all things together for good to those who love Him, and aren’t the parents He chooses for us included in ‘all things’? Some parents do choose to do terrible things, Katherine, like my Papa did, but God is bigger than all that. He can redeem even the worst situation if we will only allow Him to work.”