Katherine looked down at her plate again and sat quiet, struggling inwardly, not wanting to admit that what Miss Harriet had said was true. Miss Harriet softly stood and began to clear away the dishes from the table. As she reached for Katherine’s empty plate, she said hesitantly,

“Forgive me, dear, I shouldn’t be telling you what to do…But would you do one thing for me?”

Katherine looked up, questioningly, tears glistening in her eyes.

“Will you promise you’ll pray about where God wants you to spend Thanksgiving?”

Katherine took a deep breath and nodded.

Miss Harriet smiled, and said in a brighter tone, “Good. And if God leads you to stay here, I’d be just thrilled for you to spend your holiday with me. Otherwise, it will just be Whiskers and I.”

Katherine gave a watery smile. “Whiskers?”

“Yes, he’s my cat. He likes to roam around the garden all day and spends much of his time curled up under that little bench out there. Let me just set these dishes in the sink, and we’ll go see if we can find him. It’s nearly sunset now, anyway, and time for him to come inside.”

Miss Harriet disappeared into the kitchen briefly, then the two went out into the garden. Miss Harriet called her cat’s name and he came ambling down one of the garden paths, large, grey, and very fluffy.

“Hello Whiskers!” Katherine said as the cat sniffed her hand, rubbing his cheek against her with a purr. Miss Harriet smiled and picked him up.

“He likes you. You should be flattered, for he hardly likes anyone. There’s days I think he doesn’t like me very much.” Then to the ball of fluff in her arms she said brightly, “Come on, then old boy, it’s time to go inside.”

The cat having been safely deposited in the house, Miss Harriet led the way back out to the garden so Katherine could watch the sun set over the waves in the distance. The two sat in companionable silence for a while then Miss Harriet drove Katherine back home.

As she waved goodbye and locked the tearoom door behind her, Katherine thought over the evening and what Miss Harriet had said about her parents. Leaving the lights off, she dropped her bag by the door and walked over to the window seat. She curled up with a pillow in her arms and looked out at the sky above the tall brick buildings.

She knew what she needed to do. Taking a deep breath, she began to pray.

Ok, Lord. Show me what You want me to do, and I’ll do it.

11 Miss Harriet’s Idea

The next morning, Miss Harriet unlocked the door and stepped into the tearoom. She called a cheery greeting up the stairs, then went back outside to fetch a large box from her car. Katherine was just coming down the stairs as Miss Harriet returned.

“Good morning!” Katherine said, yawning. “What’s in the box?” Katherine knew she looked exhausted, but she felt more settled than she had when Miss Harriet had dropped her off the night before.

“Oh, just a few things to get this place looking a little more like autumn.” Miss Harriet set the box heavily down on the floor by the counter and then turned towards Katherine. “Now, then, how’s my favorite employee this morning?”

Katherine grinned, then yawned again. “Tired. I didn’t sleep much last night. But I did what I promised.”

“And?” Miss Harriet asked eagerly.

“Well,” Katherine began sheepishly, “To be honest, I already knew what God wanted me to do, but I asked anyway to make sure, and then I bought a ticket right away, so I couldn’t put it off.” Miss Harriet gave a satisfied sigh, then gently taking Katherine’s hand, said,

“Oh, Katherine, I’m so proud of you!” Katherine smiled a little, and Miss Harriet knelt and began pulling brightly colored leaves and flowers out of her box.

Katherine slowly sank to the floor beside her employer and sat, silent and uncertain, twirling one of the flowers between her fingers. Finally she spoke.

“I do feel better than I did last night, but oh, Miss Harriet, I still don’t want to see my parents. I know it’s the right thing to do, and I know there’s really no excuse for me to avoid it, but I still can’t help not wanting to go.”

Miss Harriet’s eyes softened and she gave Katherine an understanding smile.

“I know, Dearie. It’s hard to do the right thing sometimes. It’s even harder when the right thing is the one thing you would like the very least of all to do. Come on, let’s put the kettle on and get some tea in you; then we can chat.”

“What about the decorations?”

“Tea first. Then decorating. Mr. James won’t mind if we’re still finishing up when he comes, and you know there’s no one else in town who would venture in so early.”

The two finished the preliminary straightening and made everything tidy, apart from the overflowing box on the floor. Just as they finished making the shop ready for its first customer’s arrival, the kettle began to sing. They sat down at one of the tables and sipped their tea. Katherine, curled up in the straight-backed chair, began to look a little less tired as she drank her tea, and soon her employer broke the silence.

“Katherine, what do you think makes you so dislike seeing your parents?”

Katherine sat, blowing gently over her tea, pondering the question. She answered slowly, “I think… I think it’s because… I just…never quite feel welcome now. They were actually pretty good parents, and I know that I probably don’t have any real right to complain, but that doesn’t make me feel any better.”

Katherine set her cup gently on its saucer and continued as Miss Harriet poured her some more tea. “I suppose it might be as much because of my own attitude than anything else. I just don’t seem to feel like there’s room for me. Not just in their home, although that’s a fact, but in their lives, somehow. It’s painful to feel like that, like I don’t matter anymore.”

“And what do you think would make you feel you do matter?”

“I don’t know. I think that’s part of the problem. I don’t even know where to begin.”

Miss Harriet took a sip of tea and looked thoughtfully out the window. Then she turned back to Katherine and said, “When I was a child, there was one day when a classmate got mad at me at recess and said something mean—something very mean—about Papa.” She set down her cup, and Katherine leaned forward with a face full of sympathy.

“I was devastated, and it was all I could do to hold myself together until school was finished. I ran home and sobbed it all out to Mother when she got home from work. What my classmate had said hurt, and it had dredged up all the hurt of Papa’s leaving all over again. I felt abandoned by Papa, rejected by him and by my classmate. That was the first time the full weight of it really hit me.

“Mother, as usual, let me cry myself out, and then gave me one of her gentle little talks. She told me that it didn’t matter that Papa had left us—at least, that it didn’t have to matter. I was shocked, and thought, That can’t be right, but she took me to a verse in Psalms that said, ‘When my father and mother forsake me, then the Lord shall take me up.’

“She explained that the only thing that needed to matter was that God loved me with a love that could never end. He had promised never to leave me, never to forsake me. She told me that even if everyone on earth abandoned me, God’s love was big enough and strong enough to satisfy my heart. I listened, for I knew it was true; I had seen her live it out ever since Papa left.”

Katherine’s eyes glistened with tears, and Miss Harriet squeezed her hand and gently asked, “Could it be, dear Katherine, that what you’re looking for from your parents may be something God is wanting to give you Himself? Could you make mattering to God what fills your heart?”

Katherine silently shrugged, unable to speak. The bell over the door jingled merrily and Miss Harriet stood to greet Mr. James. Then, leaning towards Katherine, she said softly,

“You just finish your tea, and we’ll put the decorations up when you’re ready.” She gave Katherine another gentle smile, then hurried off.

Katherine sat for a while, thinking, trying to process what Miss Harriet had said. After a while, she got up, went upstairs to freshen up and remove the traces of the tears that had spilled out of her brimming eyes. Taking a deep breath, she came back down to the tearoom, ready to help Miss Harriet disperse the contents of her box.

The two did get the decorations up before anyone else arrived, much to the amusement of Mr. James, who watched them from his table in the corner. Katherine was surprised what a difference was made by just a few garlands and a scattering of orange and red throughout the room. It still looked like Miss Harriet’s, but it now looked festive and cozy and fit seamlessly with the quickly changing autumn foliage dotted here and there throughout the downtown blocks.

Katherine hopped nimbly off one chair as Miss Harriet stepped gracefully down from another, having just put the last touches to the garland over the windows opposite the counter. The brilliant white of the lace curtains (which were always kept closed on those windows to hide the unromantic and very unlovely alleyway on that side of the building) made the bright leaves and flowers seem even brighter and cheerier, and gave a sense of completeness to the room.

Mr. James, perceiving that the decorators’ efforts were now finished, applauded loudly from his table, proclaiming,

“Well done, ladies. It looks very autumnal. In fact, it looks fit for a celebration. You should throw a party.”

“And so I shall, Mr. James.” declared Miss Harriet, turning to face him, “and, if you please, I shall rely on you to help with it.”

The reporter looked intrigued and answered politely, “Of course! And when shall this celebration take place?”