If you find an island of tranquility in a sea of turmoil, do you dare to share it?
|Morning was creeping over the stone wall surrounding his patio. Reno sat at the small, tile covered table, reading his morning newspaper. It was his favorite part of the entire day: The cool air, the dew, and the wisps of fog just after dawn. He savored this quiet time, this tranquility. The remainder of the day would be conflict, stress, and emotion.
Doctor Reno Wyatt was the Head of Emergency Medicine at Oak Ridge Hospital. He worked at least 70 hours a week. He dealt with death, loss, and tragedy on a daily basis. This small morning ritual was his moment of sanity, and he treasured it.
As he sipped coffee from his oversized mug, his eye caught a flash of movement by the stone wall. It was a young cat, solid white, with a patch of shiny black fur around the base of its right forepaw. It froze as Reno turned his gaze toward him.
“Hey! This is my time” Reno told the cat. In typical fashion, the cat didn’t move, but simply looked back with a stare that seemed to say “Sorry, but I don’t care”.
The cat suddenly stood and walked, tail held high, toward Reno.
“Would you care to join me?” Reno asked as the cat sat looking up at him. He stood and walked to the kitchen, and returned with a small saucer of milk. He placed it on his small tiled table, and sat back down.
The cat leapt onto the table and tasted the milk. She sat, lapping at the saucer.
“I guess that with that black paw, I’ll have to call you ‘Shoe’” Reno said. He realized that he had found the ideal companion with whom to share his treasured morning rituals. Shoe returned daily. sharing, but never disturbing the tranquility.