The Book Nook Café was a moderate-sized shop, but nonetheless a fairly popular place both on the weekends and during the week, throughout all its open hours.
In the day, it functioned as a brunch place, with a small kitchen to the side and several small square tables filling a central area. A few round tables sat by the front windows. The floor was covered with a mahogany laminate wood, adding to the cozy feeling. Additionally, some sofa chairs were set up along the walls or in the corners of the room to provide a comfy place to sit and relax or read. Often by the counter, a moderate selection of books was for purchase at a good price. The Café was usually half-filled at all hours of the morning, though during breakfast and lunch hours the place was nearly full.
At night, they opened up the double doors at the back of the opening room, leading to a larger room. In the very back was a small platform like a miniature stage. This was set up so that a person or two people could still up there at a time.
The Book Nook Café was dimly lit, as usual during this hour, when many of the bookworms, fiction nerds, and literary enthusiasts in the city flocked to the decent-sized cubbyhole to share in their love of classic novels, poetry, and all other kinds of similar works. Sometimes the occasional traditional folk song or classical piece made its way into the spotlight for a short while. Tonight was not one of those nights, but a regular evening of cheer and content as people partook of the joys of literature. Every Monday - Saturday night, from 6 PM to 10:30 PM, the Book Nook Café would host a gathering, an open house for all these people to share different works with each other.
At the moment, a girl of about twenty was on stage. Being a regular, she was not afraid of the crowd; in fact, she knew them well, and barely was anxious at all. She cleared her throat gently, dispelling the gentle murmur in the room. She began to speak.
"Tonight I'm going to recite a poem I wrote myself as I thought about the Christmas season and reflected on what it truly means. I hope you enjoy." She pulled the microphone out of the stand and stepped back, taking a moment before continuing. "In a Stable Lowly, by Arissa Kings.
"In a stable lowly, a place for humble beasts,
"A mother holds her sleeping child in quiet, gentle peace.
"The cattle watch Him slumber, their heads bowed low for hay-
"The same hay in the manger where their Lord and Maker laid.
"The angel host to shepherds the good news they did tell
"The lowest of the lows were first to see Emmanuel.
"The star above them shining, a guide to everywhere,
"Gave sign to Eastern wise men as to how to find Him there.
"Three gifts they gave Him humbly, now two-some years of age,
"Of gold and frankincense and myrrh, of how His life they gauged:
"Gold, a precious treasure, a gift fit for a king-
"The King of Kings, the Lord of Lords, of whom the angels sing;
"Frankincense, a symbol that God dwelt among men-
"Emmanuel, a helpless babe, lay in a hay-filled den;
"Myrrh, a strong perfuming, a sign of death to come-
"Messiah came to save all men, to die for everyone.
"His story goes on further, for, after much long time,
"This same small baby grew and aged into, of life, the prime.
"Three years went His service, of miracles and signs,
"Of teaching, like relations: us the branches, He the Vine;
"Many other lessons He taught throughout those years,
"With some twelve trav'ling closely, others following to hear.
"He healed the sick and crippled; He brought to life the dead;
"He fed thousands of people with a little fish and bread.
"He talked about His calling, His purpose on this earth-
"His destiny to die decided long before His birth.
"The twelve denied it sorely, determined for His rule-
"For Him to take the throne then and deliver Israel.
"Before His death, He gathered the twelve to further tell,
"On Passover, He told them to remember His death well.
"The bread was like His body, t'was broken and was torn,
"The wine stood for His bloodshed, from a whip, spear, crown of thorns.
"Praying in the garden Gethsemane for peace,
"Disciples slept while he sweat blood in wishing it to cease.
"He called unto the Father to pass the cup from Him,
"Yet in the end, He still obeyed His will, however grim.
"An angel game Him comfort, a messenger from heav'n,
"As twelve disciples seeming faithful turned out just eleven.
"Betrayal kiss of greeting told priests which one was He;
"He let them grab Him, take Him to where His judgment would be.
"The Rock denied Him three times, as was forewarned he would,
"And wept, rememb'ring, at his failure when the rooster crowed.
"Through questioning by Pilate, so blameless He was found
"That Pilate wished to let Him free despite the angry crowd.
"He offered them Barabbas, a murderer, as well,
"But Jews cried out for him to hand over Emmanuel.
"Pilate asked the people with Him what should be done,
"And 'Crucify Him! Crucify Him!' cried out everyone.
"He gave them what they asked for, though washed his hands of them,
"While He was whipped and beaten, spit on by those cruel men.
"With crown of thorns they mocked Him; they nailed Him to a cross,
"With nails, they pierced His hands and feet, our gain for His dear loss.
"Two thieves hung beside Him, His treatment such as theirs,
"One like the crowd denied Him, but the other turned his ways.
"They gambled for His clothing, they mocked, 'KING OF THE JEWS',
"These soldiers condescended Him, His skin bloodied and bruised.
"Some time had passed before, when, his suff'ring was enough;
"He cried unto the Father at their separation rough.
"Announced to all that great thing, it finally was done,
"And gave up then His spirit for to die for everyone.
"Pierced with spear by soldiers, to check He really died,
"A flood of water mingled with His blood flowed down His side.
"The earth responded dreadful, a darkness coming through,
"The great veil in the temple quickly then was torn in two.
"His body dressed in spices, and placed in a dark tomb,
"A great stone rolled before the front to trap Him in the gloom.
"But after three days later, He rose from death to life,
"The tomb was opened as he conquered wickedness and strife.
"And now the gift He gives us of freedom from our sin
"Allows mankind to enter Heaven to now live with Him."
After a pause, Arissa exhaled, putting the microphone back in its place. "Thank you," she said quietly. The crowd applauded her performance as she walked off of the stage and down to the other people, slipping out to the doors leading to the front of the Café.
{-}
"Hey, Rachelle!" Arissa walked towards the entrance of the Café, where a girl about her age was sitting at one of the tables with an open book and a steaming coffee cup. Rachelle stood at her approach, her shoulder-length black hair swinging gently. She was wearing a loose navy blue knit sweater with black leggings and leather boots and had a velvet royal purple scarf wrapped loosely around her neck, the ends draping down her front and back.
"Hi, Arissa," she replied. Though she did not smile with her mouth, Arissa could tell that she was doing so deep in her dark eyes. They gave each other a light, friendly elbow bump before sitting at opposite ends of the table.
"What's the drink you've got?" Arissa asked, taking the cup off the table.
"It's peppermint dark chocolate hot cocoa," Rachelle replied, handing Arissa a spoon. She placed a bookmark in her book and closed it gently, and the other girl scooped up and ate a heaping portion of whipped cream before actually tasting the hot chocolate.
"Mmm," she cooed, taking another spoonful. "It's a delightful combination."
Rachelle gently snatched back her cup. "Don't drink all of it!" she exclaimed lightly, a hint of a smile on her lips.
Arissa laughed. "I won't, I promise," she assured Rachelle, handing back the spoon. Rachelle took an appreciative sip for herself before settling back into her chair.
"The poem you shared tonight was beautifully written," Rachelle began slowly, choosing her words carefully. "I can tell you put a lot of thought into it."
"Thanks," Arissa replied. She put her hand behind her head. "It's a topic that I really care about." Suddenly, she sat up. "Ah! I almost forgot." Reaching into her large black handbag, she pulled out a small rectangle of cardstock, colors printed on it. "I wanted to invite you to my church's Christmas program," she said, extending the flyer out to Rachelle. "It's on Sunday evening from 5:30 to 7:00, and the theme is A Story of Gifts: Past, Present, and Future. There'll be music and acting, and there's also a light reception afterward with cookies and stuff.
Rachelle studied the card. The theme was printed in bold letters over the front, just like Arissa had said. A Story of Gifts: Past, Present, and Future. A retelling of the Christmas story with drama and music. Underneath stated the times and the address: 5:30 PM to 7:00 PM at 1234 W Trickling Stream Ave, Jump City, CA. She flipped to the back, where there was a longer description.
What is the best gift you've ever received at Christmas? But is it truly the best gift? Join us as we tell the story of many gifts, and ultimately the greatest gift of all that is given to all people. All you have to do is receive it. If you are tired of the materialistic and perishable gifts you receive year after year, this gift is for you. This gift is for everyone in the world.
Rachelle attempted to mask the frown that flitted over her features. Arissa noticed her moment of discomfort and spoke before she did.
"I know that you feel uncomfortable going to church, but I really hope you can go to our Christmas program if anything. I think that it will really impact you- there's gonna be a great message."
Rachelle bit her lip uncertainly, slipping the invitation into the pages of her book.
Arissa sighed lightly. "Would you go if I told you that I'm participating in the program? I have a pretty important role this year, and I would like it if a friend could come."
Rachelle looked up, meeting Arissa's eyes. Arissa smiled hopefully, and Rachelle spoke slowly.
"I'll . . . consider it."
Arissa beamed, as this was the closest she had ever come to getting Rachelle to attend one of her events. "Thank you, Rachelle!"
Rachelle nodded dimly as she sipped her hot chocolate again.
Claude Debussy's Claire de Lune began playing. Arissa's eyes widened before she slipped a hand into her back pocket, pulling out her phone. "Excuse me," she told Rachelle as she looked at the caller ID. She picked up the call. "Hi," she said to the other person on the line.
Rachelle fiddled with the twin rings on her middle fingers as she waited, watching the swirls of her hot cocoa.
"Mmhmm," Arissa said. "Okay, I'll be right over." She disconnected the call. "Our program director wants to update everyone on the program. I have to go. I'll see you later?"
"Yeah," Rachelle responded. Both girls rose to their feet, Rachelle grabbing her book and cup from the table. "I have to get going anyways. My library shift starts in half an hour."
"Okay," Arissa nodded. They walked out of the Café, the bell ringing behind them as the door swung open and then closed. "Bye!"
"Bye." They parted ways, Arissa heading to her car, and Rachelle walking out of the parking lot towards the library.
{-}
Rachelle waged a war in her head as she navigated the sidewalk.
She could feel an evil presence pushing against her. But what really scared her was that it was her own voice.
You are not worthy to enter God's house, it whispered to her. Your mere presence will defile the place. You are not welcome there. If they knew the truth, they would treat you in the same way as they did (nearly) five years ago.
The thoughts were drowning her in fears and guilt. Who was she to even think about stepping near to a church?
They will find out all about you, the voice prodded. They will all hate you. They will push you away. You will be shunned once again. The home you've finally established will be taken from you. You will be on the run, destined to live in loneliness.
But then Arissa's face came into her mind. The girl had been her friend for these five years. But in all those five years, she had never gone to a single event that she had invited her to.
Rachelle bit her lip. She owed at the very least this much to her. She quelled her negative thoughts and resolved upon going, solely for Arissa's sake.
Yet as she waited for the streetlight to turn green so she could walk across the street, she felt a growing sense of dread within her.