“You’re going to need these. You know you will.”

The box was heavy in my hands, clinking with every movement. My mother spoke again, “Open it.”

I lifted the top off the box, instantly recognizing the beloved treasures inside. The delightful herbal aroma fills the air. The sight of the colorful, looseleaf tea and the delicate, ornate teacups causes a great feeling of contentment to was over me.

A gasp leaves my mouth: “These will fit perfectly in our kitchen!” One of the cups catches my eye. The beautiful shades of emerald and coral intertwine together in the most intricate design that is a perfect mix of flowy vines and sharp flowers. My first teacup.

My mind floats to the memory. Ruthless winds and rain surround us on the chilly, autumn day. My mother and I rush to find shelter from the harsh weather. Once we find one we run inside, I feel like I belong here immediately. Shelves upon shelves of books–old and new–encircle us with a café straight ahead. I quickly grab Shakespeare’s Macbeth off one of the shelves and am pulled to the café by my mother. I scan the menu even though I already know what I am going to get.

“What can I get for you two today?” the barista asks.

My mother orders a coffee while I continue to browse the menu just in case there is something that sounded extra delicious. There was: “A hot chai latte for me please.” The barista started to work on our orders and told us she would bring them out to us. I walked over to a table and sat down. I open the old book. It smells antique and the pages are soft on my fingertips. There are a few rips on some of the pages and every once and a while I spot some annotations in the margins. These are the signs of a book well loved. I look across from me. My mother is already deep in the book she picked out: Sarah Penner’s Lost Apothecary.

I go back to my book though I do not get through the first scene before the barista comes over with our hot drinks. I take the steaming teacup from her and breathe in the heavenly smell of spices and warmth. I notice the beautiful detailing on the cup, colors of emerald and coral twirl together in vines and flowers. This is the most beautiful teacup I have ever seen. I move my gaze back to Shakespeare and allow myself to get lost in the story and my delicious chai. Time passes slowly, the delightful sounds of the rain against the glass windows of the bookstore creates the most calming environment.

Before I know it, my cup is empty. A brief sadness crosses me, but then I have a thought: Maybe they are willing to sell me the cup.

My mouth moves before my brain does: “Excuse me?”

The barista comes over at my interruption of the peaceful quiet. “Yes?” she says.

“I was wondering if you sell these teacups? Or maybe I can buy it from you?”

She ponders for a moment before she speaks: “Typically, we don’t sell any of our dishes… but I think I will make an exception for this. You like that cup?”

“Very much!”

“And that book as well I presume? You have already read a quarter of it.”

I laugh, “Yes. Shakespeare is my favorite!”

“Then I see no reason you should leave empty handed today. You can take both the teacup and the book with you today. No purchase necessary.”

I am shocked at her response. If I had thought about whether or not she was selling the cups for a second longer before speaking, I would not have asked her if I could have it. I can barely process what she just told me: “That’s amazing! Thank you so much! That is so kind of you!”

The barista smiles down at me: “Of course. I hope you have a lovely day.”

I check with my mom to see if she is ready to leave and it looks like she is. We mark the pages we are on and I grab my teacup. I look back at the barista and smile once more, taking a calming breath before facing the storm that lies on the other side of the glass door. We run through the pelting rain to avoid getting wet until we see our parked car. I shout to my mother to unlock the doors so that I can get in as swiftly as possible. She does and I continue running. It is not until I am a few feet away from the car that I stop. I take a look a round me, the rain hitting my face as I do. I see puddles lining the road and colorful leaves falling off the trees from the harsh rain. I see other people racing to get away from the storm.

Finally, I see the little bookshop I was just in moments ago. The beautiful golden light gleaming from the inside out. A beacon of gratitude and love that I hope others get to experience just as I did today. I smile at this beautiful small town and finally I climb into the car and am ready to go home.

My mother breaks the silence: “That was really good!”

I laugh and agree with her, the smile of gratitude on my face never fading away.