A map of the streets of Denver was opened in the front passenger seat. I kept flipping its pages, hoping to miraculously find a message that read, “You are here: go here” with arrows pointing the way. I felt directionally challenged and I decided just to pull the car over and cry a while.

As I sat there sobbing my eyes scanned the buildings on the street. “Tea Leaves” caught my eye. A tea room? Here, in the land of loneliness and pain? I wiped my eyes and got out of the car. A nice cup of hot Earl Grey would help. I walked through the doors. It was a beautiful room, not Victorian, but simple and lovely. At the counter, a plump woman with a red face and an easy smile welcomed me.

“What can I get you?” “Do you have scones?” I asked. “Absolutely.” Her smile warmed me, and I couldn’t help but grin. “My friend and I used to have tea in California at a tea room.” “Would you like to have a full tea?” “You do that, too?” “Of course.” I sat down and ordered a pot of tea, a cucumber sandwich, and some scones.

For the first time since moving, I felt as if this new city could be my home. Laughter came as I sat and ate the delicious food, and sipped the tea. I would come back here and bring new friends.

I would sit and drink and write and enjoy the simple pleasure of being a wife and mom and woman. And when Stacey visited, we would come here and laugh and celebrate a friendship that will last beyond years and miles. — Beliefnet.com (Concluded)