Life As A Christian Teen Girl: Grace's Story {Part 2} Doing Things The Right Way

Chapter 1: The Pineville Café

"Hey there, stranger," a familiar voice whispers in my ear, sending a delightful shiver down my spine.

I turn around from the coffee machine and see Matthew lying half way across the front counter to reach me.

"Matthew! Get down from there," I playfully scold Matthew with a swat from the coffee-stained towel in my hand. Matthew slides back off the counter and sits on one of the bar stools. I spin back around, beaming, and finish the latte I was making.

"I'll be back in one second." I breeze past him and deliver the latte to a customer reading a newspaper by the bookcases. The bookcases are one of the things I adore about the Pineville Café, where I work as a waitress part-time. They make the whole place feel cozy and snug.

The man looks up at me and thanks me with a sincere smile and a nod. The crinkles at the corners of his eyes compliment the sparkle in his green irises.

I go back to the counter and begin to wipe it off.
"What a nice ring you have on there," Matthew comments and points at my hand.The silver ring with a thin band that twirls into a cross sits proudly on my ring finger on my left hand, as it does everyday. A tiny, but real, diamond sits on the center of the cross.

About five months ago, Matthew gave me this promise ring. When I accepted the ring, I promised I would stay exclusive to him until we were old enough, mature enough, and ready physically and mentally for marriage.

"Oh yes. Some handsome fellow gave that to me." I smirk as I lean on the counter.
"Some handsome fellow? What is this, the 1800s?" Matthew chuckles.
"Way to ruin the moment!" I exclaim and raise up from the counter.
Matthew lightly grabs my wrist, pulling me back. I stand above him at his seated position, the counter between us. He releases me and gazes up into my eyes, his electric blue ones as bright as a Caribbean sea.
"Hey, hey. I was just kidding." His eyes are sincere and somber, the seas in his eyes laying flat.
I grin.
"I know," I say softly.

Thunder claps suddenly outside of the café and rain pours down, as if the clouds opened up a trapdoor. Customers and staff all jump at the sudden outbreak of the thunderstorm. The sudden noise cause Matthew and I to break our gaze.

"Wow!" Matthew comments, looking out the front door at the slashing rain coming down outside.
"It's really coming down!" I agree. "I need to go tend to some customers. I'll be back in a second."

I go back over to the man, who is now scribbling in a worn leather notebook, the newspaper folded beside him. His coffee cup is empty.
"Would you like a refill, sir?"
"No, that'll be all for today, thank you. Look around the room. Carefully," he instructs strangely.

I slowly oblige and look around, taking in careful details that I skip over every day. The knots in the wood of the bookcases. The carpet starting to tear in many places from many loved customers walking through. The worn center of the seat cushions from the constant use. Creased paper back books that have been held in many hands and hardcovers with ripped pages from being turned so frequently.

I scan the variety of staff. Rose, who has worked here the last twenty years, stands with her hands pressed into her back and her face weary but content. She complains her back hurts from being on her feet all day, but she can't quit because she lives off of the money that comes from the job. Even if Rose didn't need the money, I know she would work another twenty years here anyways. She deeply loves this place and it's as much a part of her as she is a part of it.

Bridget, a spunky twenty year old, works here when she isn't taking classes at the community college that is half an hour up the road.

My boss, Carly, is in her mid-thirties, very kind and understanding, and also very pregnant. She currently stands talking on the phone on the wall behind the counter.

"Treasure this place," the man finally speaks, shattering my thoughts. "There are not many places left like this in the world."
"It's a true gem," I agree sincerely.
"Take a sniff." He inhales in example. I follow suit, smiling at the oddity of it.

I smell the obvious, strong smell of coffee. Cinnamon faintly slips and twirls through the air. An earthly smell of mud and rain tangles with the sweet smells coming from our bakery case.

"Not many places smell like this anymore. This smells like home." The men's eyes are far away, his mind lost in another place in another time.

Unsure of what to say, I stand there for a second thinking.

"Are you alright?" I lightly pat his shoulder.

The sensitive man snaps back to reality and nods. He opens a leather wallet and pulls a few bills out. He pushes the paper into my hand and smiles. He leaves the café with his notebook in one hand and his leather jacket held over his head in the other to block out the rain.

I see that among the dollar bills is a folded piece of lined paper. I slowly unfold it.

A pencil sketching of a girl, who looks strikingly like me, is revealed on the paper, along with a note saying, "I can see in your eyes and in your actions that you are kind and unique, with The Lord living in your heart. Never, ever change, even when this world and Satan beat you down."

My heart is warmed by this extremely loving gesture. I fold it back up and slip it into my apron pocket, before sending a quick prayer up to God to bless that man and help him to always love the Lord with all his heart, devote his life to The Lord, and have a personal relationship with Him.

I hurry over to bring two older women their chai teas before starting back towards Matthew at the counter as the storm rages outside.

Before I reach the front of the café, a crashing noise thunders above my head.