SISTER RAIN SEDONA WEEK
2/5
On our last full day in Arizona before flying home, we spent a leisurely morning on the deck of our rental house, enjoying our coffee and the magnificent view. I also had my traditional vacation morning mimosa. We finally headed out a few hours later, deciding to stop at a place for iced coffees and donuts to eat as we checked off the things we still wanted to do prior to leaving tomorrow. It was not until we had parked, then gone to the door of the store that we saw that the establishment is closed on Wednesdays. Once we got back in the car, I Googled “bakeries” near our location, the results showing there was one not far down the road, Layla’s Bakery-Cafe. As we walked from the parking lot to the shop, we noticed lots of tables outside to enjoy the beautiful May weather, as well as the fact that the place was very busy with customers. A good sign.
Going inside, we found the end of a rather long line. As we got closer to ordering, my husband recited the types of pastries available, one more mouthwatering than the next. With only one customer left to order in front of us, I asked Mister Rain if the door behind the counter was a restroom, he confirmed that it was. I told him I was going to visit it after we gave our selections to the woman behind the cash register. We had learned by watching the other patrons that we would be given our baked delicacies right away, then our coffees would be brought to us at our table. My husband said he would find us a seat outside, keeping an eye out for me, saying he would wave and call my name so I could locate him.
I walked to the right then behind the counter. As I reached up with my hand to push the restroom door open, Mister Rain loudly yelled, “NO, SISTER RAIN!” In those few seconds, I was angry, mortified and searching for the correct entrance all at the same time. I immediately turned to the closest bakery employee I could make out, the cashier, and said, “I’m so sorry! I’m legally blind!” I don’t always use my cane, if I’m with someone, if wherever I am is not crowded or dificult to navigate, I leave it in the car. Looking at me, you are unable to tell that I cannot see, both a blessing as well as a curse, depending on the situation. I did not wait for a reply from anyone, heading to the only remaining door. I felt tears in my eyes, equal parts furious with my husband and embarrassed by my mistake. This is not the first time this has happened with Mister Rain yelling “NO!” to prevent me from making an error due to my limited sight. I understand this repeated action is purely an innate protective measure to quickly stop me from doing something wrong that could cause me shame or possibly harm. I love and appreciate him for that, but I have asked him after previous instances of this behavior to just yell, “Hey, Sister Rain!“
As I did the thing I had to do that created this whole scenario, I reminded myself of my husband’s intent. I headed back through the busy shop then out the door, where I heard Mister Rain say my name. As I turned my head in that direction, I could see him get up with a wave. As I pulled out my chair, before I could even sit down, he said, “I’m sorry.” I told him I knew he was, but asked again that he please try to exchange “HEY!” for “NO!” I shook it off, my attention now on the plated Pain Au Chocolat silently seducing me on a very pretty tiled mosaic tabletop. A woman arrived at the table next to us with her dog, we watched as she affixed the pup’s leash to her chair, retrieved a collapsible bowl from her bag, placed it on the ground, filling it with water from a bottle she also removed from her tote. She then withdrew a laptop, sitting down to begin working. Toto, we are definitely not in Pennsylvania anymore. The outdoor living in Arizona is an enticing, fascinating concept to those of us who spend a large part of our year hibernating inside for the heat or air conditioning.
A bakery associate arrived with our beverages. We thanked her as she set them down. She said to me, “Are you the woman who said that you were sorry and couldn’t see?” I replied, “Yes, I’m legally blind.” She said, “Please do not apologize! I heard that and thought ‘ugh’.” I was floored. Thanking her, I glanced at my husband. I could not see his face across the table, but 30 years of marriage left me with no doubt that he was as taken aback as I was. I explained that it, “I’m sorry!,” always comes out of my mouth without thinking, despite being aware of it while it is happening. It is sadly instinctual, much like Mister Rain’s shouting at me to keep me from making a false move, I thought, amidst this conversation with this incredibly kind, smart young woman. “I’ll do better“, I said. “Thank you.” She walked away. My husband and I just looked at each other. I felt myself tearing up again. Has anyone in the history of the world cried twice at a bakery???
“What are the chances the donut place would be closed and we would find our way here?,” Mister Rain asked. “It was meant to be,” he continued, “and we found a new spot next time we are out here.” I marveled at this empathetic person feeling so strongly about what she had witnessed that she felt the need to speak up. We ate our scrumptious pastries while enjoying the perfect weather: blue sky, sunny, slight breeze, no humidity. We people and dog watched. “They had a lot of t-shirts and other merchandise in there. You should go look. Get something to remember this, not that you will ever forget,” my husband said. We gathered our trash and empty plates, licked clean I can neither confirm nor deny, then returned inside. It was still crowded as we made our way around the line to the mug offerings on the one wall. I found a travel mug I liked that I decided I would use for my morning coffee at home. I prefer my coffee hot so I always use a thermal cup rather than a traditional ceramic mug. We then serpentined back through the queue to the opposite side of the shop where t-shirts hung as well as sat in neat piles on shelves. I found a shirt I liked but the only one we could locate the size / color combination I wanted was on display. All the bakery associates were busy so we got back in the line. Once we reached the counter again, we asked for help with the clothing. The woman said she would send a colleague over but it may be a bit before they would be available. We waited off to the side until she could assist us. Upon arrival she searched in some cabinets but the shirt hanging on the wall was the only one in my size and color. She said I could have it, taking it down for me. Mister Rain pointed out her co-worker who had been so compassionate, so empathetic, asking for her name. “That’s Alyssa,” she replied.
For the third time we got in line to pay for my new mementos. When we were a few customers away from our turn, Alyssa noticed us as she waited to use the coffee machine. I held up my choice, “Every morning, back in Philadelphia, I am going to drink my coffee out of this mug and think about what you said to me. You changed my life today.” She lifted up her arm, “You gave me goosebumps!,” putting her hand on her heart. I told her our names, she gave me hers. I thanked her again then we left, still in awe of the experience.
A few weeks after we got home, I wrote a letter to Alyssa, including my phone number plus a picture of myself with my mug in hand, Piper on my shoulder, snail mailing it to her at the bakery. Ten days later I received a text from her. My letter had arrived right before the bakery closed for its two-week vacation. More serendipity, I am sure. We texted a little, then about four weeks after, a package arrived from her containing some fun souvenirs she picked up on her road trip during her time off. I texted her to thank her; almost a year later, we both reach out a few times a month. Alyssa has moved on from the bakery, leading me with no doubt that our paths were divinely crossed.
The back of the t-shirt I purchased that day reads: BAKE THE WORLD A BETTER PLACE. The croissant I had at this establishment most certainly made me happy, but it is Alyssa’s actions that caused me to believe in her, in myself and the human existence. Better, indeed.
Sister Rain’s Note:
I was unable to see Alyssa’s face this day, it wasn’t until I recently asked her for a photo for this piece that I got to know what she looks like. For over a year I have had a picture in my mind of this person, then within minutes of my texting her for an image, there she was. For once I wasn’t far off the mark. I suppose when you are goodness and light it is not difficult to imagine it draped by a person.
#sisterrain #alittlesightalotofheart #legallyblindtraveler #travel #laylasbakerycafe #alyssa #sedonaarizon #sedonaweekatsisterrain #anicedvanillalattewithanunexpectedshotofkindness
