A story of grit and good cheer


Boiling up out of Texas
on the run
running from a death sentence
imposed on her and Joyce
Joyce, her sweet baby born
only two years ago

On the eastern slopes of the
Sierra Nevada she comes to rest
weary, scared she enters a small café
in a small, remote desert town

She sits on a stool, at the counter
Joyce sleeping in her lap
trembling, she offers the few
coins in her hand for a cup of coffee

The counterman waves aside the coins
and places a cup of coffee on
the counter before her

He stands back, arms folded
waiting for a teary eyed
tale of woe
told in a weepy, staggering voice

She looks him full in the face
and smiles broadly,
"Thank you kind sir. I have come a long way
but I won't burden you with
my misfortunes. It is work I
seek. Can you help?"

The giant counterman unfolds his arms,
"Hells Bells, woman!
Anybody with your grit
can work for me anytime."
"I got a empty cabin out back
and children to help
with the young'n.
Whadda you say?"

Along the 395 corridor
the word spread: there
is a waitress in a small
café, a waitress
who never forgets and
truly believes each customer
is a special person to be
remembered and cherished.

The tiny café grows
and gains a legendary footing
among travelers along Highway 395

Eve blossoms as Joyce
rewards her with grandchildren
her black past remains rooted
in the Texas woods

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