A/N: Don't forget to click on the book art for the movie poster.
It's a Wonderful Latte
"So tell me, in simple words that someone who isn't an angel can understand; what happened?" To a passerby it would seem that two men were talking on a grimy, snowy bench along a main street of a small town.
"Congratulations George, you got your wish and you officially were never born" Clarence Odbody, Angel second class announced. "I told you you'd find the world is a much different place."
"Oh really," George Bailey said sourly "I suppose Europe isn't there any more, just magically disappeared. Just as well, I never got there anyway." He had been having a bad day before he wished he'd never been born, and it had gone downhill from there.
"No, I mean the world you knew. The whole world is a big place, and a lot of it doesn't know the difference between one person and the next. But certainly Bedford Falls isn't the same anymore, as you noticed. In fact there isn't any place in the country named Bedford Falls now."
"All because I wasn't born? How can that be?" George was confused, but trying to make some sense of what he had just witnessed as he walked around the town. He thought it would have been better if he had never been born, but this wasn't the town he knew.
"Ripples in a pond, George. Make one change by throwing in a pebble and the waves spread out in all directions. Some pebbles are bigger than others, and the waves go farther. You were a pretty big pebble, George."
"What did I do that was so important? I just owned a couple coffee shops where people could come in, grab their cup on the wall and sit down for a bit. If they bought a muffin it was a big day for both of us, otherwise I'm just a nobody."
"And yet a world without you ended up with what you saw today; Pottersville."
"Yes, but how?"
"Let me take it one thing at a time, and I'll tell you. I can't afford to flub this assignment or else I won't get my wings for at least another millennia; it took me three times that just to fill out all the paperwork for the application. I told you that you were never born, right?"
"So you say. No one seems to know me here."
"Right. We'll skip your childhood, but do you remember your first job?"
"Sure. Mr. Gower hired me at his story. I did just about everything there; cleaning up, behind the soda counter, sales and deliveries. That place was closed when we walked by."
"That's right. Well, Mrs. Wainstard came in one day and ordered her usual pastrami sandwich. Well, she was so hungry she ate half of it before she realized she was eating pickles."
"She can't have pickles, she's allergic!"
"I know that, and you know that. But you didn't exist to stop Gower from making the sandwich with pickles. He made it right dozens of times before, but just once his mind was somewhere else and he made a mistake. She went into anaphylactic shock and died. Gower ended up killing himself grieving over his mistake."
"But what about the name of the town?"
"You were a shining beacon to people who wanted to start all their own little businesses. In the Bedford Falls you knew, there were bakeries and floral shops, fix-it places and even a laundromat. But without your inspiration and encouragement, people just let someone else do it if it was ever done at all. How many other people hung out at your coffee shop and worked on plans to open their own business?"
"A few. We'd mostly talk, and I'd tell 'em what I had learned or if I had any good ideas to do something different." George thought back to long sessions where some of his customers brainstormed and dreamed. If he wasn't too busy he'd try to throw in his two cents worth.
"Those people were never encouraged enough to do anything. Any dreams or ideas they had died from neglect with no one and no place to work it out. The only real businessman in town was Henry Potter, and all he saw was pennies and dollars. If it wasn't going to make him a solid return on his investment, he wasn't interested. You smelled that coffee shop we walked past?"
"Yeah, Potter's Cup. It smelled horrible."
"From what I've seen, people weren't too happy drinking it either. But it's the only game in town, and no one has the gumption to start a place of their own anymore. Why did you start your place?"
"Because I wanted a place to get a decent cup of coffee while I was away from home. A place" George thought back "where a person could come in, grab their cup off the wall and sit with friends. Maybe meet someone special. Hey, wait a minute; speaking of someone special, what about Mary? She was working at a library when I tried to talk to her a few minutes ago."
"Mary Hatch never met you George. Never met anyone like you, and never married. She tried to get a degree in business, but fell asleep while studying and failed a critical final. Your coffee and encouragement would have kept her awake, George."
"Mary with a degree? She's always been good keeping the books, have I been keeping her from her dream Clarence?"
"No, she doesn't have that dream right now, she's too busy. But you could help encourage her George, if only you were alive."
"So all the little things I've done have added up over time?" George asked, beginning to see the light.
"That's right. It's those ripples from the pebble. Big things like keeping Mrs. Wainstard from pickles and telling Sandy where she could buy linens more cheaply for her diner. A hundred smaller things too, things like sobering up Frank when he had one too many celebrating his first kid, or giving your unsold muffins to the Smith family to help feed them."
"You know about them too?"
"Our files on you are quite complete, George. We also know that you treat your employees well, and deal fairly with all the other people from whom you buy your supplies. More ripples, George. But don't get a big ego there; everyone makes their own ripples too. Now does your life seem so bad?"
"No, I don't suppose it does after all; this world is too dark and cold for me. Can I have it back the way it was?" George asked.
"If you want. You'll have the bad with the good, just like before. The health inspector will be coming next week, Tommy still has a broken arm, and your car still needs a new motor. But everything will be restored if you want; it's your choice."
George turned fully to Clarence. "Clarence, I want it more than anything in the world."
"I was hoping you'd say that. It's done."
"That's all? No snapping fingers, clapping your hands or counting to three?"
Clarence sighed. "Showmanship. It really isn't looked upon too well in our profession. If you want theatrics, I recommend you go see a magic show. Now look across the street."
George turned his head and looked. The abandoned store had changed, and was now again his primary coffee shop called 'It's a Wonderful Latte'. Through the front window he could see several familiar faces laughing and talking while they sat with their hands around a warm cup. "Clarence, I don't know how to thank you" George said, but when he turned back he was alone on the bench. The space beside him showed no signs of anyone ever having sat there. He jumped up and ran across the street to burst into the shop.
"Close the door George, you're letting our heat out!" Mary yelled from across the room. Several people turned and greeted him. He strode quickly over to Mary and embraced her while giving her an unforgettable kiss.
"Mary, I want you to think about something. Have you ever thought about going to school to get a degree?" he asked her.
"I don't know, George. I've always been interested in business, but it takes too much time. Maybe in a couple years."
"Couple years nothing. Let's start now. Let's grab a cup and sit down and we'll have our own planning session; after Christmas break would be a perfect time to get you started. We'll work it out somehow, I know we can."
"Oh George, that sounds lovely. Grab your cup and meet me at the table." Mary walked away and George almost skipped to the large pegboard that held the cups for all the regulars. He pulled his off the peg, and then noticed an extra peg and cup at the bottom. The name 'Clarence Wings' was painted on the cup.
"Atta boy, Clarence!" George said to himself.
The End
A/N: A holiday classic, it seemed a natural for a Coffee Time Films poster. And that meant it needed a story to go with it…