It Came Upon a Christmas Eve in Baltimore

Almah approached the special corner in East Baltimore where President Street meets Fleet. It was a cold morning, with a crisp, light snowfall and a mild wind that carried the moisture through the air, delaying its downward journey. Stockings, gloves, earmuffs and a layers of wool and cotton were standard fare that morning, and Almah was duly insulated—even the frigid East Coast temperatures could not chill the charm she always felt on Christmas Eve.

From what she could tell, the congested traffic had eased as she made the walk from the Shot Tower Metro stop on East Baltimore Street. She crossed Fleet just in front of the Starbucks cafe but walked past the revolving door at the main entrance on the corner, choosing to enter the store from the doorway just to the left of the shared main entrance to the two hotels. It was the more obscure entrance to the Harbor East Café, the one typically chosen by three types of people—Starbucks partners, local workers and residents from the tall buildings nearby, and the occasional homeless person who wanted to avoid the spotlight of that prominent door on the street corner.

As she approached the café door, she took out her phone and earbuds case. She paused just a few more seconds outside the door because she decided she needed just one more refrain. After that, she'd close out the revelry and embrace the open world.

Follow me in merry measure,  

Fa la la la la, la la la la. 

While I tell of Yuletide treasure,  

Fa la la la la, la la la la.

Storing her earbuds in a pocket, Almah entered the café, inconspicuously moved past the counter and walked back to the partner storage area. She removed her coat and left it on the hook inside her locker. After a brief hesitation, she also took off her sweater and put it inside the locker. Almah made a decision to trust that this would be one of the days when Proctor, the store manager, would work the midmorning shift. On those days, the store was markedly warmer, even though Proctor denied having the ability to control the cafe's temperature. 

Following protocol, Almah took out a large, brilliantly colored scarf and artfully wrapped it around her hair. At its longest, Almah's loosely curled brown hair extended more than thirty inches, a treasured inheritance from the love shared by her Monegasque mother and Parisian father. She had the statuesque height of her father, the enchanting facial structure of her mother, and her skin and hair were a fusion of his lighter and her darker features.

Almah was comfortable with herself, but she admitted her appearance sometimes brought unwanted attention—it was not always unpleasant, though. For example, at least three times, as Almah sat in a chair or walked through a room in their home, her parents had stood beside one another, smiling silently as they eyed her movements. When she first questioned those strange actions, they explained that their smiles reflected the shared joy of finally beholding the young woman they’d dreamed of raising, a dream they’d shared from a time when they were just young lovers.

Almah believed her parents' words. She accepted the gesture as a compliment—even an expression of their love for her. But she still felt the need to either earn her way or prove herself in the world. For now, that world centered on her job.

Almah grabbed her smock and walked out to the front area of the store, joining the other partners on the morning shift. She noted the kitchen area as she passed by, felt good about its order and cleanliness, then she walked behind the counter and gave a greeting to Jessica. Taking the tablet, she tapped the screen several times, checking its report and noting which partners had left the cafe earlier that morning and which were expected later in the day. Then, she greeted and moved past Carlton and Felton, who were preparing hot drinks at that moment. 

The morning shift was the busiest of the day, a time when customers relied on Starbucks to start their day in the right mood. A successful morning shift could lift the mood throughout the neighborhood surrounding the cafe, especially at the Harbor East Cafe, given the mix of retail, business offices, and hospitality properties all within a short walk of the store. It was a prime location, influential and lucrative.

Whenever a partner worked the morning shift, they paid extra attention to cleanliness and congeniality. Customers were greeted pleasantly. Every shift partner worked harmoniously to meet the shift's service goals; from the store manager to the shift managers to every other team member, every partner took turns preparing drinks and food, cleaning, and resupplying the food and beverage stores behind the counter. 

From Almah's experience, all the shifts adopted this attitude, but everyone knew the morning shift held a higher expectation. The morning shift took on the burden of contributing to each customer enjoying an excellent remainder of their day. This is why there was always a little bit more pressure on the morning shift. 

Almah walked to the far end of the counter and looked over an assortment of drinks standing on the silver counter waiting to be claimed by customers. There were only a few, but it was important to get them into the customer's hands before they cooled or the ice melted. Another half-dozen bags and drinks rested on the alphabet-labeled riser.

Almah walked over to Jessica, who was then moving around the warming station.

"How long since you called them out?" Almah asked Felton, speaking softly. "Should I call them out again?"

"We did a few times, but no one claimed them," Carlton answered, some irritation in his voice. "I heard there were accidents on both Pratt and Broadway this morning. It's backed from both directions."

Almah had seen the notifications about those backups earlier that morning. She'd made it through okay and hoped that meant that things had cleared. Apparently not.

Proctor would not allow them to remake drinks, no matter how long they sat waiting for a customer or a delivery pickup, or the reason for the delay. He was nearly OCD-level in his efforts to limit wasted or uncompensated product. Almah really hoped the traffic issue would be cleared up quickly.

She heard the commotion before the group showed itself. Within seconds, one, then two, then three children emerged from the little passageway leading to the hotel from the cafe. From where she stood, Almah saw the large party before the other partners. She moved quickly toward the counter to take orders with Kafi, arriving just as the mass of kids and a few adults had congealed in front of the two registers.

Almah quickly tallied up the ten young children, all looking younger than her eight-year-old sister. The children weren't wild, but they were excited—probably about their thrilling Christmas visit to Baltimore. They probably had a long day of sights and sounds ahead. 

The group's energy was familiar to Almah. She had four younger siblings—a brother still in high school and a set of mixed identical and fraternal triplets. Those last three siblings were rare—two boys who were identical and one sister who was fraternal—and Almah was still helping her late-fifties parents get over the shock of raising them. It had been especially difficult for the first three years because there were so many developmental challenges during infancy, especially for her little sister, Ure. 

Yet her triplet siblings were also a lot of fun—helping her parents care for them was what led Almah to change her college major to developmental psychology. She'd already graduated with her bachelor's, but was then strongly considering pausing her master's after one semester. She enjoyed school, but she also enjoyed meeting and solving the unique challenges she faced while working in the cafe.

Along with the ten kids facing her on the other side of the counter, Almah saw two adult women—she assumed were either moms or chaperones—and two teenage girls. All fourteen members of the entourage appeared to be together. Almah noticed that one of the women planned to use her Starbucks app to pay for the entire party, resulting in a single large order for the partners to manage. 

As Kafi interacted with the two adults, Almah jotted down the drink orders. She also began working with Jessica at the warming station. 

Maybe it was her experience with Ure—maybe that's what made Almah keep an eye on one little girl amongst the other nine children moving around on the other side of the counter. That petite child's light brown face was nestled on top of the thick white scarf wrapped around her neck, and her thick red hair was sectioned into large Bantu knots. With her dainty pink Converse All-Stars and an adorably petite burgundy peacoat, the tiny girl's ensemble drew the attention of anyone who admired darling little girls like Almah did.

But as Almah watched more closely, she began to detect some shadows in the picture. For one, the girl who'd drawn her attention seemed out of place between two other girls—the girl to her left was an overwhelming ball of energy, and the girl to her right kept pulling roughly on one of her arms. In the middle of that trio, the cute girl in the burgundy peacoat did not look as excited as she might have. Almah knew the look—she hoped it wouldn't happen in the store.

One of the two women who came in with the children noticed the look on Almah's face and, following Almah's gaze, also looked at the red-headed child. That woman must have shared Almah's suspicions, because she began to step around the three or four children between her and the cute red Bantu knot girl. But she was too late.

It happened quickly—pink Converse All-Star girl bent over and vomited, and a wave of sound erupted from the children around her. Given the diversity expected within any group of children, Almah was not surprised by the concert of gasps, laughter, and intrigue that filled the cafe. She also had confidence in herself and the two women with the children—they'd get the mess cleaned up. 

Even as Almah was pleased that the little girl's burgundy coat seemed to have survived the incident without a blemish, she felt embarrassed for the entire party—they didn't want that attention. Everyone wanted a pleasant time in the days just before Christmas. Almah moved away from Jessica, expecting Kafi to assist her while she attended to the mess in front of the counter. 

As she came around the corner of the counter, she saw Proctor's face just as he entered the cafe from the direction of the hotel. He did not look happy. He did not look Christmassy or festive. 

God rest ye, merry gentlemen,

let nothing you dismay,

Remember Christ our Savior

was born on Christmas Day,

to save us all from Satan's power

when we were gone astray.

O tidings of comfort and joy,

Comfort and joy,

O tidings of comfort and joy.

Proctor wasn't a mean boss. He was largely neutral with his performance reviews. He was reasonable when partners needed to adjust their schedules—as long as the work was covered. Even though he might not always chat pleasantly with others, Proctor was rarely harsh or angry.

But two types of people seemed to wear at Proctor's patience—the very young and the older-than-most. In other words, Proctor was always edgy when anything more than one or two calm children entered the store, and he seemed to lack patience with the elderly if they did anything beyond smoothly giving their order, politely picking it up, and calmly exiting the cafe. That second reason is why he had problems with Felton, and, combined with the sick little girl's incident, Proctor would surely be in a sour mood that morning.

Almah temporarily set those things aside as she went to the back, grabbed the cleaning equipment, joined the apologetic older woman, and cleaned up after one adorable little girl. She smiled at the little girl and spoke encouragingly to the two older women. Despite the task, through sheer determination, they turned their effort into a festive occasion—it was Christmas after all. 

Out of the corner of her eye, Almah watched Proctor emerge from the back-of-the-house prep area, handle the tablet for several seconds, then start wiping some of the counters with a small towel. She overheard him speaking with Kafi, Jessica, and Carlton. Then, he walked to the end of the long counter, making the same circuit she'd made a few minutes earlier. 

By their typical practice, Proctor should station himself at the pickup area to help hand out all of the orders for that morning's large group of customers, but Almah knew he wouldn't do that with a group that included so many children. She watched Proctor retrace his steps, walking back through the door into the prep area. She would probably find him in the office, which would help with what she planned to do that morning.

Almah returned the cleaning materials to the back-of-the-store closet, took off her latex gloves, washed her hands, and went back to the customer side of the pickup counter to help the two women—and the two teenage girls who spent most of the time laughing together—escort the children to one of the long benches in the customer seating area. Several other customers moved to make room for the group, and they settled down and enjoyed their food and drinks. Every child had either a peppermint hot chocolate or that year's spiced cider. 

As she came back behind the counter, Jessica said, "We have another large order coming in. It must be from a group in the hotel."

Kafi said, "It's Christmas. It's the most wonderful time of the year."

"It is for me," Carlton said. "I can't wait to open some presents."

"What did you get me?" Jessica asked, looking at Carlton. Carlton glanced at Almah. He smiled and shrugged his shoulders, but he didn't answer the question. Jessica accepted his silence and turned back to the warming station.

Carlton had nearly completed training to become a shift supervisor, and once he finished, he'd be in a position to have Jessica report to him, which would create an ethical conflict under their corporate policies. 

But Almah knew he'd started dating Jessica just before he started the supervisor training. They'd have to work it out, but he need not fear anything from Almah.

Almah walked back to the customer pickup area, then returned to the ordering counter. She told Kafi to grab a few buckets of ice and to get some of the hot foods ready to bring to the counter. 

"Sure thing, Boss," Kafi said pleasantly as he walked away.

Jessica walked over to stand near Almah at the second terminal.

Almah leaned over to Jessica and whispered, "I hope he gets you something nice."

"He better," Jessica said, smiling.

Almah had worked at Starbucks for almost two years and at the Harbor East Cafe location for over a year. She'd started with Starbucks while she was still an undergrad, working in the location on her college campus. She'd moved to the current location before she graduated because it was easy to reach by public transit.

Felton, Carlton, and Jessica had been working at that location for several years, and when it became obvious that Almah would become the assistant store manager there before any of them, she wasn't sure how they would take it. But there'd been no hard feelings. Jessica had even told Almah she was thrilled to have her as a supervisor.

"You won’t believe how much I've cooked at home over the last day or two," Carlton said loudly, directing the words to anyone who would hear and respond. When no one said anything, he continued, "And you won't believe how much I'm going to eat."

Kafi moved behind Carlton, pouring some liquid into one of the containers behind the cold bar. "Tell me how much, Carlton," Kafi said. "I'd believe it."

Kafi and Carlton orbited one another with an interesting spin on perspectives. About ten years separated them, with Carlton in his mid-thirties and Kafi in his mid-twenties. Kafi's childhood innocence and bright-eyed awe were still gradually fading, but his personality was so subdued that his youth was barely visible to the casual observer. 

Kafi looked up to Carlton, admiring the older man’s age, confidence, and independence, but Kafi felt the need to act as if he’d attained the same standing in society and was therefore able to move in life the way Carlton did. But Carlton was an army veteran—he’d been stationed overseas—and veteran’s benefits helped him purchase a home and attain some of the other features of his life. No one blamed Kafi for not living like Carlton.

Yet, Carlton seemed to revel in Kafi’s youth. He always complimented Kafi’s artwork, which was easy to do because Kafi was a very talented and imaginative artist. Carlton even tried to dress like Kafi so consistently that everyone who knew them both expected Carlton to wear a new style of pants or shirt a few weeks after Kafi first wore it.

“It’s what we do,” Carlton said, still directing his words to no one in particular. He continued his soliloquy, and only Felton could be said to be paying rapt attention. Kafi moved behind Almah and Jessica as he carried an empty ice bucket back to the prep area.

“What are you doing for Christmas?” Jessica asked as Kafi passed the two women. When he stopped and stood beside Almah, Jessica moved her eyes between the two of them, expecting an answer from either one. “Do you have Christmas traditions in your family?” she asked.

“My family doesn’t do Christmas,” Kafi said. “We weren’t raised to celebrate it. My parents may buy something for my brother or me just before Christmas, but we don’t open gifts on Christmas Day or anything like that.”

“We are big Christmas people,” Almah said. “We don’t do Santa Claus, but we certainly celebrate the Day.”

“That’s because you all are Christian, right?” Kafi asked.

Almah looked toward Kafi and smiled. “Yes, kind of,” she said.

“But, I know Jesus wasn’t born on Christmas Day,” Kafi said. “He wasn’t even born in December, from what I hear.”

“He wasn’t,” Almah said. She turned toward Kafi and said, “That’s why I said, ‘Kind of.’”

“Yeah,” Kafi said, waving his hand in dismissal. “That’s why I don’t get into any of it—

Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa. I don’t see the purpose or the reason.”

“I just like Christmas,” Jessica said. “I like the music. I like the decorations—the lights, the colors. I like everything about it.”

“I really like that stuff too,” Almah said. “It’s just—there’s more for me in what I do on Christmas Day than anything else. I try to do what God did.”

“I try to enjoy God’s gifts,” Carlton said, walking around the turn in the counter and standing with them. “I enjoy the food. I enjoy my family. And I like giving presents.” Jessica’s eyes met Almah’s, and Jessica smiled broadly.

“I think a lot of it is just to get people to spend money,” Kafi said. 

“I do see that,” Jessica said, her expression turning more serious.

“I get that too,” Carlton said.

“I get that too,” Almah said. “It’s not about spending money.”

“So, what’s the point?” Kafi asked.

“Yeah, what’s the point?” Proctor asked, a mocking tone in his voice, as he walked out from the back to stand with them.

Jessica looked at Proctor and asked, “Do you celebrate Christmas at home?”

“It depends on how I feel,” Proctor answered. “It depends on how much money I have. And it depends on who I’m with.”

Kafi raised his eyebrows and shrugged his shoulders. Then he turned and grabbed the ice bucket. “I’m going to finish what I was doing,” he said as he moved through the doorway to the prep area.

“I’m going to clean the seating area,” Carlton said, moving away from the group.

“I’ll help Felton,” Almah said. She walked toward the espresso bar area when Felton stood. Other than walking over to the pickup counter and attending to customers as they walked up, he’d been making hot drinks all morning. 

Proctor took his position beside Jessica to greet customers and take orders. Almah greeted Felton as if this were her first time seeing him that day. “Hi, Felton,” she said merrily. “How’re we doing this morning?” 

Almah didn’t say everything she could’ve said to Felton. She knew this was a fateful day for him, and she was determined to manage her feelings and her words. She wanted to encourage him.

“I’m well, Almah,” Felton replied, with a grin on his lips. “Merry Christmas to you.”

“And to you, Felton,” Almah replied. She knew his resolve would be severely tested in the next few hours. That fact was tearing at her heart despite her merry appearance.

No more let sins and sorrows grow,

nor thorns infest the ground;

He comes to make His blessings flow 

far as the curse is found.

Far as the curse is found,

Far as, far as, the curse is found.

Even though Felton was the least talkative of the partners at the Starbucks Harbor East Café, Almah knew more about his personal life than any of the other partners. Felton was not effusive when he spoke about himself and his life, but Almah found what he shared so fascinating that she hung onto his words, took mental notes, and, over nearly a year of listening to him, pieced together the compelling puzzle of his life. Felton knew about her knowledge and interest, and his retiring attitude about her fascination made his personality all the more admirable to her.

Felton was of average height for a man in his sixties, a little on the slimmer side, but clearly still very active. He moved around the store easily and never seemed to be dragging at the beginning or end of a shift. His eyes were bright, and although he spoke rarely, he was very attentive to the conversations and activities around him.

It was his backstory that fascinated Almah. Felton was a widower. His wife had passed away shortly after their son had been born, over forty years before. He’d never remarried, but he'd dedicated his life to raising his son with every bit of attention and provision the young man needed. He’d paid for the best education and used his business contacts—Felton had been a very successful executive at an engineering firm—to help his son begin his career as an IT professional. 

Then another tragedy struck Felton’s life. His son suffered a severe automobile accident, sustaining injuries that resulted in years of surgeries and rehabilitation. Felton funded every procedure, continuing to do so even after their health insurance was exhausted, tapping into his savings, eventually selling nearly all his assets, doing everything he could to provide the necessary care for his son. 

Caring for his son also required time. Felton had to drop out of full-time work nearly ten years before the normal retirement age—tragically cutting his career short—because he needed to be available to take his son to medical appointments and other rehabilitation activities. Although his company showed loyalty during the early years of his son’s recovery, Felton’s inability to be consistent with his work schedule—attending required meetings and traveling—eventually caught up with him.

For a few years, Felton was unemployed and relied on retirement income to keep a roof over his head and put food on the table for himself and his son. He moved, he downsized. He had to make major changes, but he sacrificed as circumstances required.

It took more than twenty years to stabilize after the downward spiral. It was toward the end of that time that Felton found supplemental income as a Starbucks partner. He told Almah he liked serving people, feeling that he was, in some way, making their lives that much better.

Felton’s son was very capable of work nowadays, although he struggled with depression—understandably, given all that he’d been through. He was able to work, but with a substantial employment gap and having fallen behind in his technical skills, he could not find anyone willing to give him a chance to catch up, nor could he afford the training needed to earn certain foundational certifications. He was sentenced to a life of dependence on his father, and his father was relegated to working at Starbucks to help maintain their current living standards.

It had taken Felton nearly a year to leak that entire story out to Almah, in bits and pieces, on those few occasions when they worked closely together, and she was sure he’d only done so because she was patient and persistent in showing him interest and integrity. The age gap between Felton and Almah was too wide to include any romantic content, but she had a hard time seeing him as a father figure. For her, he was a mixture of grandfather, uncle, and a much older brother she’d never had.

A few weeks ago, Felton had thanked her for letting him share his life with her. He told her she was the only one who’d heard the entire tale. He’d kept it to himself for a very long time, but he was feeling more comfortable talking about what had happened—the good, the bad, the blessings and the parts that felt like curses.

Because of where they stood—behind the espresso bar, facing the doorways from the hotels and from President’s Street—Felton and Almah simultaneously saw their regular homeless customer enter the café. His name was Forest Latmer, and he and Felton were good friends. Every day, Forest visited their store just before noon, paid for a Honey Almondmilk Flat White Grande, and sat on a bench-seat facing President’s Street.

Forest was always polite and clean. Almah knew—because Felton had told her—that Forest showered, ate, and slept every night at the Helping Up Mission, and spent his days begging for at least ten dollars, which is what it cost him to pay for Overnight Guest Services at the Mission and still get his hot drink the next day. Although begging was more difficult over the last few years—few people carried cash since the COVID-19 pandemic—Forest always showed up at the café around noontime with enough money for his drink.

Felton and Almah watched Forest approach the customer counter, where Jessica and Proctor stood silently. Jessica waited until he stood still in front of the corner, then she smiled broadly and said, “Hello, Mr. Forest. It’s good to see you today.” Forest gave a low reply that Almah could not hear. She did hear Jessica go on to say, “Thank you, Mr. Forest. Happy Holidays.”

Almah watched Proctor closely. Although he had his prejudices and preferences, he’d made it known long ago that he had no problem with Forest buying his drink from the café because Forest always paid. One year—as Almah remembered it, the event actually took place during the Christmas season that year—Proctor had comp’d Forest’s drink. As long as he was consulted or informed, Proctor allowed partners to comp drinks at least a few times a week.

When Forest had ordered and paid for his drink, he turned and moved along the counter past the barista station. He stopped in front of Felton and Almah. Almah smiled and said, “Merry Christmas, Mr. Forest.” Even as she interacted with Forest, she occasionally glanced at Proctor to gauge his interest.

“Not for me, Ms. Almah,” Almah heard Forest say. “I do not like this time of year. It’s cold, it’s dark, and it’s lonely.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Mr. Forest,” Almah said, accepting the older man’s sentiment.

“Mr. Forest has been through some things, Almah,” Felton said as his hands worked the equipment in front of him.

“My mother died on Thanksgiving Day,” Forest said with no emotion in his voice. “My father died the day before Christmas, a few years later. I don’t feel good this time of year.” As he spoke, he looked beyond the glass planes that separated the café from President’s Street. 

Almah had never seen Forest look as forlorn as he did at that moment. “Oh, Mr. Forest, I am sorry to hear that,” she said. She looked over and saw Proctor watching them. Logically, she wanted to keep it light, but Forest’s words and presentation moved her. 

His voice low and even, Felton said, “Forest and I grew up in the same neighborhood. I knew his parents. They were really nice to me.”

“I didn’t know that,” Almah said, her mind reacting to another brushstroke to shade in the portrait of Felton’s life.

“Felton has done a lot for me,” Forest said. “Over the years, he’s been the only person who’s checked on me. He’s the only person I still know from growing up. One of the reasons I come here is to see him. It helps me to see him.”

“It helps me to see you, Forest,” Felton said somberly. He handed Forest’s cup to Almah. Almah walked toward the end of the counter and asked Forest, “Can I get you something else?”

“No, I’m good,” he replied. “I’m just going to sit over here and watch the people.”

As Almah turned away from Forest, Proctor walked away from the counter and went through the door to the prep area. She’d a wait a few minutes, and if he didn’t return in that time, she would walk right after him and have the conversation. She said a prayer to the Lord and asked for the right words and the proper attitude. 

O come, Thou Wisdom from on high,

Who orderest all things mightily;

To us the path of knowledge show,

And teach us in her ways to go.

Rejoice! Rejoice! Emmanuel

Shall come to thee, O Israel.

Almah walked through the prep and kitchen areas and entered the small office in the recesses of the Harbor East Café. Proctor looked up from the little desk near the doorway. Seeing it was Almah who’d entered the office, he looked back at the screen in front of him. With hectic movements from both hands, he pecked at the keyboard in front of him.

“Proctor,” Almah began, “I have a bad feeling about this.”

Proctor swiveled in the chair, facing Almah more fully. He put his hands on the arms of the chair and tilted the chair back slightly. He shook his head slightly and smiled at Almah.

“We’ve done everything we need to do,” Proctor said. “We’ve done the one-on-one consultations, we’ve spoken with corporate HR. We’ve done two rounds of improvement plans. He’s signed everything already. At some point, we just have to pull the trigger.”

“I’ve never liked any of it,” Almah said, her voice still even, but her emotions more obvious. 

“We’re punishing Felton for his personality.”

“We’re concluding a failed attempt at implementing a partner development plan.”

“Proctor,” Almah began, her voice lower now, “as I said before, I don’t believe Felton needs to improve. No, he doesn’t talk as much as everyone else. If everyone on the team likes him, I don’t think that matters. He doesn’t smile and giggle with the customers—that’s not a reason for termination.”

The smile left Proctor’s face. Sighing heavily, he dropped his chin to his chest.

“We’ve talked about this, Almah. It’s about fit. He’s known what he needed to do to improve. He signed the PDPs. He signed the Corrective Action Plan.”

“He said he didn’t agree with it and . . .”

“But he signed it,” Proctor said, interrupting Almah’s words.

Almah could see Proctor getting upset, and he’d given the same signals the last time she’d privately protested to what he was doing to Felton.

“It’s not right, Proctor,” Almah said, with more defiance in her voice. “It’s Christmas Eve. The whole thing isn’t right, but the timing is even worse.”

“I wasn’t going to do it today,” Proctor said, his eyes still lowered, his voice showing even more frustration. “I will send an email in the morning.”

“You’re going to terminate him on Christmas Day?”

Proctor sat still in the chair, his eyes closed now.

Almah continued. “For being himself, you’re going to terminate a man from his job on Christmas Day? For being older and more mature than everyone else—including yourself—you’re going to separate him from his work on Christmas Day.”

“He’ll be okay, Almah,” Proctor said, now looking up into Almah’s face. The anger he held was clear to her—whether it was directed at her for protesting, or at Felton, the subject of her protest, she could not tell. He spoke again, the words slow, some menace evident in his tone. “And I’m not thinking about that. I’m doing my job for this store. I am the store manager—you are my assistant.”

Their eyes clashed and lingered, neither willing to look away.

“Corporate HR is with me,” Proctor continued, his voice still deep and low. “I’ve answered their concerns about his age in this thing. It’s not about his age—his maturity. Or my maturity. It’s about . . .”

“It’s not right, Proctor. You know it. I know it. Felton will know it. And God knows it.”

Proctor sat back in his chair. He sighed heavily. “It will be done,” he said. “I’m sorry. It will be done.”

“I don’t think you are, Proctor,” Almah said.

Proctor continued, ignoring Almah’s words. “And I appreciate how you’ve handled this with your dad.” He looked up into her eyes again. “He is fully aware of what’s happening. I’ve kept him in the loop with everything.”

Almah’s father was the Starbucks regional manager for their location, the ultimate factor behind Almah working at the Starbucks on her campus for a few years. Locations on or near college campuses sometimes refrained from hiring students from that campus—the situation could place unfair pressure on them. Almah’s dad had pulled some strings for her.

But she had not used that influence in the current situation.

“I have not reported my perspective to my dad, no,” Almah said evenly. “I’m trying to stay unbiased. That doesn’t mean it’s okay, Proctor. It’s flat wrong.” Almah put her hands on her hips and stared into Proctor’s eyes. “I’m trying to respect you and your position. But I have to be honest. So, I’m starting with you. You are wrong.”

“And if anything happens to me later, I hope it’s not retaliatory,” Proctor said.

“If something happens to you later, Proctor, it’s not coming from me.”

“Because I could see this interaction as a threat, Almah.” 

“You could see a lot of things, Proctor. Green ducks. Joy. Peace. There are a lot of things you could see. I do see what you just said as foolishness. But sometimes we see what we want to see.”

Proctor leaned forward and rose from his chair. Almah took one step forward. About six feet separated them.

Peace on the earth, goodwill to men

from heaven’s all-gracious King.

The world in solemn stillness lay, 

to hear the angels sing.

“We need to get out to the counter,” Proctor said. 

The sternness in his voice offended Almah. She made no motion to turn away, and Proctor made no motion to go around her—they were literally in a standoff. Thick tension swirled between them, just like steam swirled around two cups of coffee sitting side by side on a counter.

Then, they both heard Jessica’s raised voice. She was not close to the office. She must have been leaning through the doorway from the counter area.

“We’ll need some help out here,” Jessica said. “That group with the kids is back for their afternoon fix.” 

Almah knew none of the partners would typically call for more help on the counter, no matter how many customers were in the store. It was a mantra of the Starbucks work ethos—a shift managed the workflow regardless of the demand. Jessica must have been concerned that Almah and Proctor had been missing for too long—all the partners knew how they got along.

As Almah exited the doorway and moved behind the counter, she saw three notable things. First, she saw the group with the kids from earlier, but there were a few more kids, and at least two more women had joined the party. The little red girl was still with them, and she had much more energy than this morning, which made Almah smile. 

Secondly, Felton was on the register, standing beside Jessica and taking customer orders. That didn’t always happen. She gave them some light words of encouragement as she quickly moved past the customer counter.

Almah went to the espresso bar to work beside Kafi, and as she looked out at the crowd from a new angle, she saw an older couple standing behind the gaggle of energized kids, which was the third notable thing in that moment. The couple’s faces looked familiar. She felt like she knew them, but she couldn’t fully frame her knowledge. 

Seeing the line of empty cups near the espresso bar, Almah grabbed one and began preparing the drink she saw printed on the cup’s side. As she did so, she ran through her typical activities and where they occurred. That was the method she used to help her remember people. 

The couple must have recognized her because the woman smiled and waved at Almah. The man with her looked at Almah and said, “Hello, young lady. Good to see you.” Almah gave a courteous reply, but she still wasn’t sure of her relationship with the couple.

They weren’t regulars at the café. She couldn’t place them as neighbors. She couldn’t place them at her college. Were they friends of her mom and dad? Disappointingly, she didn’t remember them from any of those contexts.

As she watched the couple move toward the counter, Almah was glad Felton was there with Jessica. Felton appeared to be around the couple’s age, and Jessica was just a bubbly person. Almah was glad they’d have a pleasant experience in the store. 

Proctor was working the warming station, and Carlton was working the cold bar. The shift was working smoothly, which raised Almah’s spirits after the drama with Proctor. She thought back on the encounter and shook her head dejectedly.

Had she been about to fight Proctor in the back of the store? How would that have played out? She knew it would not have looked good from any direction.

And what would happen with Felton, and at what point should she talk to her dad about all of it, giving him the details she’d been holding back? She didn’t see how she could hold her tongue until the next day. She decided to tell him after her shift, letting him decide what would happen that night.

And then Almah finally situated that couple in her memories—she knew them from her church. She was looking at Carter and Melissa, who always sat not far from her family on Sundays—on days when she could actually go. She then remembered her parents introducing her to them after a Sunday service. 

She remembered they both were professors—a fact she could hardly forget given how much time she spent thinking about school. She remembered that Carter was a psychology professor—her subject—and Melissa was an IT professor. And she remembered how nice they seemed, how relatable they were, and how comfortable she felt talking to them.

They were a handsome couple, dressed smartly for Baltimore’s December climate. Carter was insulated in a long, burgundy wool overcoat and tall black heritage leather boots, and Melissa was a vision in snowy white—her coffee-colored face contrasting nicely with a fluffy cream-colored pull-down hat, tall white-on-white pac boots, and white ski pants. Almah found herself drawn to their smiles.

Kafi and Almah made steady progress on the hot drinks. Proctor was lagging a bit at the warming station—it seemed the kids were very hungry. Carlton moved to the end of the counter and helped distribute customer orders.

Kafi asked, “That couple—they must know you. Now they’re chatting up Felton and Jessica.”

“Yeah,” Almah replied, “I know them because they go to my church.”

“Yeah, I knew you did the church thing,” Kafi replied. “It’s not just Christmas songs and Santa Claus for you.”

“No, it’s not, Kafi, although if you really explore the words to the traditional Christmas carols, you’ll get the point. I love those songs. But, yeah, Christmas is just another day for me to do what I want to do every other day of the year. I do a little bit more on Christmas Day because of my family, especially the twins. But the reason for the season is my reason for life.”

“That’s deep, Almah.” Kafi laughed. “I guess since those people go to your church, they must agree with you.”

“I believe so,” Almah replied. “I don’t know them that well.”

Just as she finished her words, Carter and Melissa turned away from the ordering station and began their walk to the pickup area. They moved close to the counter where Almah stood, making drinks. Smiling at Almah, Melissa said, “Hi. We remember you from church. It’s good to see you.”

“Yes, good to see you as well,” Almah replied. “I haven’t seen you here before.”

“We’re doing a little staycation for Christmas,” Melissa said. “We’re staying downtown for Christmas. And a friend is meeting us here today.”

“Your dad told us you worked with him,” Carter began, “but I guess I didn’t realize you worked at a local store.”

Almah laughed. “My dad likes to tell people we work together. But I never see him here.” 

Behind the counter, Kafi moved close and playfully bumped Almah. 

“Oh,” she said, nodding toward Kafi, “This is Kafi. He’s making your white chocolate mocha, Mr. Carter.”

“I’m sure I’m in good hands,” Carter said, nodding at the young man.

“I got you covered,” Kafi replied.

“We’ll be here a while,” Melissa said. “The woman we’re meeting is going to be delayed. We’re just going to wait here for her.”

“Well,” Almah began, “I’ll finish this run of orders, then I’ll stop by your table to chat.”

“That sounds great,” Melissa said.

“That’s good. See you soon,” Carter said as they moved further down the counter. Carter spoke to Kafi as they moved away. “Thanks for taking good care of me.”

“My pleasure,” Kafi said, smiling.

Over the next ten minutes, the partners worked diligently to fulfill a long string of orders; then, when no new customers entered the cafe and there was a lull in mobile orders, the partners relaxed and talked easily for a few minutes. Almah checked with Kafi before she moved away from the espresso bar. “You got it?” she asked. “I’m going to straighten the seating area a bit and chat with my friends.”

“I got it,” Kafi said pleasantly.

Almah had to manage her feelings as she passed Proctor. He knew not to speak, and she kept silent also. She told Jessica, “I’ll be right back.”

“I’m headed to the espresso bar,” Jessica said. “Carlton wants some time with the customers.”

Almah figured she’d head directly to the cold bar when she came back. She did not want to take orders with Proctor or even stand near him. She’d needed some time to get away from it all.

“So, how long have you been going to the church?” Almah asked Melissa as she reached their table.

Melissa looked up from her drink and smiled at Almah. “We’ve been going to that church before you were born, young lady.” When she saw Almah’s surprised look, she laughed. “My father used to take me to that church as a little girl. You probably haven’t seen us because we change where we sit every couple of years.”

“That lets us meet more people,” Carter said. 

“That makes sense,” Almah replied. “I don’t get to go every Sunday because of work.”

“How is it working here?” Carter asked.

In that immediate moment, Almah found herself challenged to give a pleasant yet honest answer. Carter picked up on her hesitancy. She tried to smile but didn’t pull it off very well.

“Melissa leaned toward Almah and asked softly, “Is everything alright?” 

In those quick seconds, Almah regained her composure. “Yes, we’re working through some things,” she said, her effort to be pleasant more convincing now. “It’s what we do here. But, everything will be okay.”

Melissa smiled but didn’t follow up on her question. Looking from Melissa’s face to Carter’s, Almah was sure Carter wasn’t convinced, but he nodded as he put his drink down on the table in front of him. He said, “The young man did a good job with my coffee. Your coworkers seem nice.”

“God loves us all,” Almah said. She knew the statement was strange, but that’s what came to her mind in that moment. Plus, it was true.

Carter nodded again. Then, looking over to the counter, he said, “You even have a gentleman here who has our maturity level.” He said the words with a smile. “I’m use to younger folks working at Starbucks.”

“Oh, that’s Felton,” Almah said. “You’re right, we’re usually younger. But Felton does a good job. He hangs with us.” Yet, as her words left her lips, Almah felt a melancholy shroud drop around her shoulders. She couldn’t keep herself from displaying her troubled thoughts on her face.

Melissa leaned over again and said, “Girl, are you alright? Is there something we can do to help you?” 

Sinners, wrung with true repentance,

Doomed for guilt to endless pains,

Justice now revokes the sentence,

Mercy calls you; break your chains.

Come and worship, come and worship,

Worship Christ, the newborn King.

“Let us know how we can help,” Carter said, doing what he could to offer support to Almah. To him, a person was in distress. Carter wasn’t used to doing nothing when someone was in distress.

“It’s okay,” Almah said, making another attempt to gather her thoughts and settle her heart. “Felton is a really nice man. I admire his story.” 

As Almah spoke, she turned and looked toward the counter. Felton stood there, his eyes roving over all the patrons. Then, his eyes met hers, and he smiled. He made a gesture as if he was tipping an imaginary hat to her. Carter saw what Felton did, and out of the corner of her eye, Almah saw Carter return the gesture. 

“Yeah,” Carter said, “I talked with him about that. I would think working here keeps him young. But, we’re both old timers.”

Almah turned back to the couple, encouraged by Felton’s gesture. He couldn’t have known what she was saying, or what she was thinking, but his gesture stirred something positive in her soul. She didn’t want to betray anyone, but she felt safe going a little further with the facts. 

“I think I can tell you some things about Felton,” Almah said. “The reason he works here is because of his son.” 

Almah went on to describe Felton’s accomplished engineering background and his son’s situation, including the accident, the long recovery, and the difficult position it put Felton in. Melissa and Carter listened to the story quietly, occasionally glancing at the nearby protagonist to make what they were hearing feel more real. 

“It’s been really difficult for his son to get back into the workforce without some training or someone just giving him a chance, and that’s really what has Felton doing all of what he does,” Almah concluded.

“I’m sorry to hear about what happened to his son,” Melissa said. “I’m sorry to hear about his continuing challenge.”

Almah nodded solemnly, her gaze fixed on Melissa and Carter. She didn’t want to look back at Felton again, because it was all becoming overwhelming. She hadn’t even told them about the termination that would happen soon.

“As an older man myself,” Carter began, “I wouldn’t ever take away his freedom to work if he wants to, but his situation sounds like a real challenge.”

Almah was so very tempted to say, “It is, and it’s about to get worse,” but she didn’t say it. She decided to lighten the mood a bit. Looking at the cups in front of the couple, she said, “Can we get you some more drinks—on the house?” She smiled to encourage them to accept.

Carter followed her direction. “Well, we can just get more of what we just had,” he said.

“You could,” Almah said. “Or you could do something special.”

“Special, like what? Melissa asked, her eyebrows raised.

Almah smiled more broadly. She was getting excited for the chance to do something special for the couple. “We have some unique things we only do for Christmas. Can we try some for you?”

“I trust you,” Carter said. 

Almah continued, “Let me ask you this: Would you want a cold drink or a hot drink?”

“Cold,” Carter said.

“Hot,” Melissa said simultaneously.

“I’ll tell you what we’ll do,” Almah said cheerily. She looked at Melissa. “I will make you my specialty—a  Sugar Plum Spice Latte. I start with a base of smooth Blonde Espresso poured into a cup of steamed whole milk. I add two pumps of Chestnut Praline syrup and one pump of Cinnamon Dolce syrup—that gives the drink a warm, spiced undertone. I finish with a swirl of berry and raspberry syrup—that mimics a plum drizzle. I top it off with whipped cream and a dusting of cinnamon-sugar sprinkles.”

“I don’t even know how to respond to that,” Melissa said.

Almah laughed out loud.

“I might want one of those myself,” Carter said.

“You said you wanted something cold,” Almah said, smiling at Carter. “I can ask Kafi to make his specialty for you. I’ve had it. We sometimes make drinks for each other, just to see what other people do. I know what Kafi does for his Christmas specialty.”

“Tell me about it,” Carter said.

With a playful tone in her voice, Almah said, “He calls it an Iced Sugar Cookie Wonderland. He pours espresso over ice with almond milk. That’s his light, nutty base. He adds two pumps of sugar cookie syrup and one pump of toffee nut syrup to create a buttery, cookie-like sweetness. Then he tops it with vanilla sweet cream cold foam and scatters red and green sprinkles across the foam.”  

“I’ll take that,” Carter said.

Her eyebrows raised, Melissa looked at Carter and said, “You are willing to try new things!”

“It’s Christmastime,” Carter said, smiling broadly. “And you only live once. I get Master Kafi maybe once. I’m going for it.”

“I’ll be right back,” Almah said.

Almah walked back to the counter, moved to the espresso bar—she didn’t speak to Proctor—and gave Kafi Carter’s order. Kafi smiled broadly and waved over to Carter, who smiled and waved back. Kafi moved over to the cold bar and started making Carter’s drink, and Almah took his space at the espresso bar and started on Melissa’s. 

While she was making the drink, Almah noticed a woman enter the café and walk over to Melissa and Carter. The woman appeared to be in her thirties, but she moved like a youthful athlete. She was dressed in what looked like an expensive wool coat, which she removed, revealing what Almah took to be an expensive business suit. 

After exchanging hugs and standing together for several moments, they sat down together and talked. The exchange was lively, as if they knew one another well. As Almah watched closely, Melissa and Carter appeared to be congratulating the new woman.

Almah finished Melissa’s drink, and she invited Kafi to walk with her to take both drinks to the couple. He agreed, and the two of them walked together to the table where Melissa and Carter sat with the new woman. As they passed Proctor, Almah noted a frown on his face, but she really didn’t care about Proctor’s feelings in that moment.

Kafi walked to Carter and placed the drink on the table in front of him. Almah handed her drink to Melissa, who immediately put the cup to her lips and took a slow, careful sip. Almah felt a thrill rush through her body when she saw Melissa’s smile.

Her voice rising, Melissa said, “Girl . . .”

“It must be really good,” Carter said. “She doesn’t have words.” Carter picked up his cup and sipped. After a moment, he raised his eyebrows and nodded toward Kafi. “I knew you had it when I saw you,” Carter said. 

Kafi smiled broadly. He was clearly pleased with Carter’s response, but he kept his composure. He looked at the empty table in front of the new woman and asked, “Can we get you something?”

The woman laughed and said, “It looks like you’ll have to.” Looking from Melissa to Carter, the woman said, “Seeing how much you two like your drinks, I don’t know if I can pass it up.”

“Almah, this is our friend, Star,” Melissa said, her lips barely away from her cup. 

Star reached out and shook Almah’s hand. Remembering her manners, Almah looked over at Kafi and spoke quickly. “Kafi, this is Melissa and Carter . . .”

“Melissa and Carter Sloan,” Carter said, finishing Almah’s sentence. “It’s good to meet you, Kafi. I think we’ll be back.”

“We’ll be back,” Melissa said, her smile barely visible behind her cup.

Almah took control of the interaction. They were in her space—in the café—and she was feeling more and more like she should assert herself in certain situations. In the recesses of her thoughts, she knew Felton’s situation had something to do with that feeling.

“So, Star,” Almah began, “would you like a hot drink or cold?”

Looking at Melissa, Star said, “I’m going to lean toward hot. Should I get what she has, or is there something else just as good? Or even better? I deserve that today.”

“I made that,” Almah said. “I could make that for you. Or I could make you another drink—a Candy Cane Cocoa.”

“Tell her about it,” Melissa said. “Describe it to her, and let’s see if she likes how it sounds.”

Star looked surprised at Melissa’s words, but she smiled and looked at Almah expectedly.

Almah said, “Okay. I warm a cup of steamed two percent milk, then I blend in three pumps of peppermint syrup and two pumps of white chocolate mocha sauce—this gives it a velvety peppermint-white-chocolate base. I top that with whipped cream, red holiday sprinkles, and crushed peppermint pieces. I am going for the taste of a Christmas candy cane.”

Star smiled, looking at Melissa. Melissa nodded subtly. Star looked back at Almah and said, “I’ll take that.”

“I’ll be right back,” Almah said. As she and Kafi turned away, Kafi said, “It’s good to meet you all.”

“It’s good to meet you, too, Kafi.” Almah heard Carter’s voice over the other two. “Thanks for reminding me of my youth.”

Kafi smiled down at Almah as they walked back behind the counter. “Anytime,” he said over his shoulder. After they were back behind the counter, Kafi walked over to the tablet and checked the screen. He knew he needed to resupply the stations, which had to be done before the next shift. 

Proctor glared at Almah as she walked past, but she ignored him. She watched the Sloans and Star at their table. They were huddled closely together, talking as if the subject were very serious. Almah noticed Star turn and look in her direction, then move her eyes toward the ordering station, where Proctor stood near Felton.

Almah focused on Star’s drink, wishing she could do something special to make it even better than her description. But she stuck to the known recipe. She’d give Star what she described and hope it met her expectations.

Almah walked past Proctor once more. He hadn’t seen her go to the register or pick up the tablet. It was obvious she was giving these drinks away as comps. He wouldn’t like that. 

But as the assistant store manager, she knew the café’s situation—they could afford it. And she was certainly willing to pay for them herself. It was Christmas Eve, and Christmas was about giving—whether Proctor liked it or not.

Almah walked over and placed the drink in front of Star. They stopped their discussion when she arrived at the table. While Almah waited for Star to take her sip, Carter spoke.

“Almah, do you think we could talk to Felton?” Carter asked. 

She looked back at Felton, still stationed at the customer counter. When he saw her turn in his direction, he smiled again at her. This time, Almah’s reaction was mixed because Felton’s smile was accompanied by Proctor’s glare—they were standing close to each other.

“I don’t see why not,” Almah said. She was emboldened by her knowledge of what Proctor intended for Felton over the next twenty-four hours. Proctor planned to fire Felton after tonight. He could take a break. “None of us has taken our break today. I’ll ask if he can take his now.”

Almah walked back to the counter and spoke to Felton, “Hey, Felton, you haven’t had your break since you got here this morning. Do you have a few minutes to talk to my friends?”

Felton said, “Sure,” but he didn’t just walk away from the counter. He turned and looked at Proctor, who moved his frown from Almah to the trio seated at the table and back to Almah. When Proctor didn’t reply, Felton asked, “Proctor, you okay with me taking a break now? It’s near the end of the shift, but I haven’t taken a break since this morning. You okay?”

“You haven’t had a break since this morning?” Proctor asked.

Almah knew Proctor was stalling, but she didn’t say anything. Working too long without a break was against a company policy. She stood with Felton and watched Proctor’s face—she’d let him figure out how to manage this situation on his own.

Finally, Proctor must have decided on his tack. He relaxed his face, looked away, and said, “Sure, Felton. You need a break. Just remember, we need to make everything right to turn over the shift.”

“No, problem,” Felton said pleasantly. “I’ll be right back.”

With Almah at his side, Felton walked over to the table where the Sloans sat with Star. He’d already met the Sloans, but Carter introduced Star. “This is our friend, Star Lucero.”

“Nice to meet you all,” Felton said. He shook Star’s hand. “You all wanted to speak with me?”

“Sure,” Carter said. He stood and walked over the another table along the window facing President Street. He grabbed a chair and moved it toward their table. As he positioned the chair at their table, he said, “Almah, why don’t you grab that other chair there? We’d be glad to have you join us.”

Surprised at Carter’s words and wondering what was about to happen, Almah reached for the other chair and slid it over to their high table. Melissa and Star moved their chairs closer together, then sat again. The five of them crowded around the table.

After he settled in his seat, Carter spoke. “Felton, I’m going to move fast and say a lot. But stick with me. I think what I’ll say will be helpful to you." 

“Almah told us about some of your background,” Carter continued. “Most importantly, she helped us appreciate the situation your son has been in. First, is that okay?”

Melissa spoke then. “Please don’t be upset with Almah for telling us,” she said. “You don’t know yet how helpful it was.”

Almah sat still, now concerned that she may have offended Felton by telling his story without his permission. Of course, she should have thought of that earlier. She realized how much the interaction with Proctor had thrown her off. 

“I’m sorry,” Almah said to Felton, turning to face him.

Felton smiled at Almah. With patience in his voice, Felton said, “It’s okay, Almah. Everything happens for a reason.”

“And it all happens at the right time,” Carter said.

“According to His will,” Melissa said.

Settling back in his seat, Carter said, “Thanks, Felton, for your patience with us. I don’t think Almah was trying to do anything untoward when she told us your story. But, Almah, did you know we were both educators?”

“Yes, I did,” Almah said. “I know you’re both professors. I know you are a professor of psychology.”

“But, you didn’t know about Mrs. Dr. Sloan, did you?” Carter asked, a smile on his face.

“No,” Almah said.

Carter looked over at his wife, who smiled at Almah. “She’s too modest to toot her own horn,” he said. He waved his hand smoothly toward Melissa and said, “Dr. Melissa Sloan is the Dean of the School of Technology at our beloved university. She is the fearless leader of the entire school.”

“You are really too much,” Melissa said, laughing at Carter’s words. 

“You really should have gone in another direction with your career, Dr. Sloan,” Star said. 

Both Melissa and Star shared a loud laugh. Felton smiled, catching the joke.

Carter asked, “Do I lie?”

Almah resisted the urge to look over at Proctor.

Now more serious, Melissa leaned toward Felton and said, “To put it bluntly, based on what Almah told us about your son’s situation, I believe I can offer him a scholarship in one or more of our certificate programs so he can acquire the certs he needs to get a job. I can probably offer him a job somewhere in the school, but I need to know more about his skills to do that. But I can offer a scholarship in the meantime. I understand how our field works. You need the certs to get a job, but they're very expensive. I can help with that.”

Almah looked at Felton, who appeared frozen in place.

“Would that work for you?” Melissa asked.

Seconds passed before Felton replied, and Almah was unsure whether to prod him. Eventually, she heard him say, “I believe so. I think that will work.” His voice was barely audible.

“We know you’re at work now, so we won’t get into the details now,” Melissa said. “We’ll give you my contact information, and please have your son call.”

“But, I would like to speak with you separately,” Star said then.

Felton turned to Star, his eyes still betraying a sense of shock. He was stiff, nearly unmoving. But he had enough awareness to reply to Star. “Of course,” he said, but his voice was flat, and his movements were stiff and robotic.

“We can just move to that table there,” Star said, pointing at a table a few tables away. She rose, and Felton rose with her. They moved to the table and began talking in quiet voices.

Almah rose as well. She smiled at Carter, then Melissa, then back to Carter. Finally, she said, “I do need to get back to work. But what just happened?”

“Thank you for helping us help someone else, Almah,” Melissa said. “And it’s just Christmas Eve. There’s more to come.”

For unto us a Child is born,

unto us a Son is given;

and the government will be upon His shoulder.

And His name will be called

Wonderful, Counselor, Mighty God,

Everlasting Father, Prince of Peace.

Of the increase of His government and peace

there will be no end.

Upon the throne of David and over His kingdom,

to order it and establish it with judgment and justice—

from that time forward, even forever.

The zeal of the Lord of hosts will perform this.

As Almah walked back to the counter, she did not see Proctor. She figured he’d gone back to his office. She was sure he was angry, since so much had happened without his consent. 

But her second visit with the Sloans lasted only a few minutes. Felton still had maybe five minutes to finish his break. Technically, he had several minutes beyond her break time since she’d started hers before him, so she just hoped the talk with Star was finished in that time—Felton technically still worked there. 

Carlton was back to taking customer orders, and Jessica was at the barista bar. Almah checked on pending orders and walked down to the pickup area.

Almah didn’t see Kafi, but she saw Calista. Kafi would leave soon, and Calista would take over for him. Jessica would get off soon after, and another partner would arrive to replace her. Felton was scheduled to leave after Jessica.

As Almah walked back from the pickup area, she saw Proctor emerge from the prep area, walk past the counter, and head toward the table where Felton sat with Star. He was walking with determination, clearly bothered, evidently wanting to correct something that irritated him. Almah knew Proctor—he’d been working hard to manage himself over the last several minutes.

Almah took a position beside Jessica at the barista bar, a vantage point that allowed her to observe potential interactions. She and Jessica locked eyes briefly. Jessica’s face was filled with questions, expectations, and a touch of dread. 

Almah shrugged her shoulders and looked back toward the customer lounge. She had her own mix of emotions—ranging from nosiness to a desire to intervene for Felton to a desire to protect Star from whatever Proctor might say. Proctor could be offensive or embarrassing, depending on his mood. 

She saw Proctor stop at the table in front of Felton. He spoke, but Almah could not hear what he said—as if she were waking from a dazed stupor, Almah was suddenly aware that the group of children was only then leaving the café, and the noise they made as they exited filled the café. She saw Felton turn and look at Proctor, his face neither anxious nor worried. To Almah, Felton’s face was stonelike, his emotions unreadable. She was worried about him.

“Proctor’s pretty upset,” Jessica said from Almah’s left. 

Almah saw Proctor jerk his hand up, his thumb pointing toward the counter. To his credit, he was not shouting—Almah couldn’t even hear his voice —but his stance was aggressive, his movements commanding. Then, Almah saw Star speaking. She really wished she could hear what Star was saying.

———————  

“Why are you treating him like that?” Star asked. “That’s not how you respect your elders.” 

”I need to direct my employees,” Proctor said, tension pushing his words.

“He doesn’t work for you anymore,” Star said. “He works for me now. In a way, you work for me too.”

“Unless you work for Starbucks, Ma’am, I don’t work for you.” 

“That’s true. But your Starbucks location is in this building, and my company has purchased the property. I just signed the paperwork an hour ago.”

“You own the hotels?” Proctor asked skeptically. “I don’t think so.”

“No, young man, I own the property the hotels lease. Starbucks also leases this space. I know this is a lucrative location for Starbucks. I’m sure they want the lease renewed, but it’s not automatic. I don’t care who leases the space as long as they pay the lease fees.”

Star paused and moved closer to Proctor. Speaking in a low voice so Felton could not hear, Star said, “I don’t like how the manager of this store treats all of his employees. I know Starbucks trains its leaders well. Your conduct is not acceptable, especially in front of me, a customer.” 

Star paused again, anticipating a response from Proctor. His only response was to glare at Felton. Star noticed Felton was both silent and still.

She directed her attention back to Proctor. “Young man, you will treat all of your employees better than what I’ve seen today, or you will not be at this store. Or the store will not be here. It’s your choice. The problem I see is not with the company, the brand, or the product.” She held up her cup and took a sip. Then she continued, “I like the product. Your employees do good work. The problem is with you. Not the store—it’s the store’s manager that concerns me.”

Proctor said nothing.

“You should also know one more thing: this man”—she pointed at Felton—"is today part of my property engineering team. I understand he has extensive engineering experience, which I greatly value. And he knows the property. He will be the one reporting back to me about how things are functioning at this property. I would encourage you to work on whatever you need to work on—and treat him well. Or you could just take the risk and leave before you’re forced to. Your choice.”

———————

Almah saw Proctor walk away from the table where Felton sat with Star. Proctor was still visibly upset, but the energy had shifted. She could pick up on the anger, but the aggression had been turned down.

Almah had never seen that type of sudden change in Proctor. She’d seen him drop his volume when other managers visited the café, but she was surprised to see what looked like a defeat. That was totally unexpected, but even more confusing to her was that Felton wasn't walking back with Proctor.

It was all too much for Almah to watch silently. “I need to check on Felton,” she told Jessica. The look Felton had taken on over the last several minutes left Almah uneasy.

“I hope he’s okay,” Jessica replied as Almah moved away. 

Quickly maneuvering around the counter, Almah began walking toward Felton just as she saw the Sloans rise from their seats and make their way over to the table where Star and Felton sat. As the two women arrived at the table together, Melissa put her hand on Almah’s arm. “I was watching that too,” the older woman said.

The party of four surrounded Felton, who sat still and quiet before them. He had closed his eyes and kept them shut for several seconds. Then, the older man opened his eyes, and Felton began to speak.

My hope—this is true—is in the God of my salvation because He has made His vow and will keep His promises to His people.

He has told me I do not work in vain. My tears were not absent from His eyes; the sweat of my brow never fell to the ground. My heart was never alone—He keeps His own.

I hope in the Rock of my salvation, in Him who has promised. He will show His face in due time, in the fullness of His determination. He has never left my heart, His home.

Every labor will He compensate—

curse for curse,

shout for shout,

praise for praise,

life for life,

‘til Shiloh comes,

‘til the Most High sits enthroned in heaven and on earth.

I smile at my enemies, not in taunt but because my joy is in my God.

My life is bound in the Love of my life.

What can man do to me? How can any scheme thwart the decree of Him most Sovereign?

When I bless, I please Him who blesses me. When I weep, I weep not alone. When I pray, I join His cause.

When I rejoice, I rejoice in my Savior—though we do Him harm; His life, He has given; His death He accepted. My life is no longer mine to keep—He will restore everything He has cost me. In abundance, He keeps the rewards—

life for death,

light for darkness,

joy for mourning,

peace for strife,

love for scorn.

My beloved is mine, He is all my treasure; my heart is His to own.

His name is Jesus, His title: Christ; His person: God the Son. Hear Him and hope; hear Him and fear; hear Him and rejoice in His coming.

I cried out to the Lord for the life of my son, I bled the loss of my partner, my head found no earthly rest, my arm no place of comfort, no hand to hold, and none to share my plate.

I pled for his soul, for his life, for his strength, and God has granted me time for strength. I have waited patiently on the Lord to put forth His hand, to touch the fruit of my loins, to bless my strength with food and rest, the confidence of his soul, and the reward for his labor. 

And now I see it. 

Behold my God, and His reward is with Him!

You heard me, my Lord and my God. You who both lives and died, who found life in death, who both kills and makes alive, in righteousness and holiness, You will judge the earth. 

The Sovereign of all the earth, the Overseer of mankind, the only true King forever and ever, not one world or atom exceeds Your mighty hand. 

The wicked will not reign, their lives as short as their breath. Those who practice iniquity shall fall and not stand. No plot beyond the righteous joy of the Lord will find success.

Repent, you who mock the righteous. Join the side of the Beloved Conqueror! Flee the lies, take flight from afar, from the distant places. Find your rest in the Great Burden Bearer. At His side, there is joy evermore. Outside are the proud, the haughty, and every perverse way. There is no rest for the wicked. Even their Creator rejects the work of their hands and the fruit of their lips.

No one is holy like You, the Lord, none so perfect as my great King. For there is none besides You, nor is there any rock like our God!

———————

Almah sat in the back of the Sloans’ SUV, her mind unable to resist the revelry. She was immensely grateful for their offer to take her home; the moments stolen away from Baltimore’s public transit system allowed her time to process—to focus and accept. Almah was truly grateful for the Sloans—she appreciated who Carter and Melissa were.

Moving easily through late afternoon traffic, the vehicle was strangely silent. Each passenger seemed to treasure their thoughts. Almah was confident the Sloans would talk together when she left; they would express to one another the things that stirred their hearts just a while ago, but Almah would be more discreet with the ruminations of her soul. 

She’d observed a man receive compensation for years of patient labor. She knew the man’s suffering; she knew his spirit—his approach to travail and trial. She knew Felton’s response to persecution. 

But she hadn’t known the depth of his heart. She hadn’t known what he waited for, what he hoped would be shown to him. She didn’t see how it could’ve even been granted, but she’d watched him realize years of hopes and fears. 

She’d never thought about Proctor’s heart the way she did now. The contrast was now undeniably stark. Almah was a woman of compassion, but she was also a woman who sought honesty and truth. 

There was a difference between Felton and Proctor that ran deeper than age or hierarchy. She had a difficult time seeing Proctor as wicked, even as she saw goodness in Felton, but she felt Proctor would be a better man if he accessed Felton’s hidden treasure. Could he do that? Would he do that if he could?

Above all, certain resonant insights reverberated within Almah’s heart. So much of what Felton said—even his transcendent demeanor—reminded her of ancient figures, people who spoke timeless words about the timeless God. She wasn’t sure if he was quoting scripture. Or, was it that his words shared an origin with those biblical professions?

It had to be true. The Spirit of Christmas—the same Spirit that overshadowed the Virgin Mary—was still with everyone who believed in the Holy Word that Spirit illuminates. As Claudia Isaki—one of Almah’s favorite musical artists—sang in one of her favorite songs, the God who heard the cries of King David is the same God who heard Felton’s cries.

It all said something to Almah about Christmas, too. When believers give in honor of Jesus Christ, they imitate the God who gave Jesus, the God who allowed Himself to be given, the God who is Spirit and claims all who believe in His Word. Of course, a celebration that recognizes a great Gift is celebrated by giving. If someone celebrates Christmas, they acknowledge the greatness of the Gift given to them. Being given to, they give; giving, they give again—just like God.

As God the Father sacrificed His Son as a gift, Felton sacrificed his life for his son. Felton was overcome by the evidence of God compensating him for his sacrifice, even though he didn’t work for compensation; no, Felton worked for love, but was graced with compensation he hadn’t sought, a revelation that went beyond what he’d even dared hope for.

Almah hoped Proctor got the message. She’d learned about Felton’s new opportunity with Star. Funny, she didn’t think Felton even felt the sting of being terminated. 

Almah eased back into the cushy rear seat of the Sloans’ vehicle. She took out her earbuds. Searching through her playlist, she found a song that put colors within the lines drawn by the events of her day. After starting the song, she drank in lyrics that were both timeless and profound.

O little town of Bethlehem, how still we see thee lie!

Above thy deep and dreamless sleep the silent stars go by.

Yet in thy dark streets shineth the everlasting Light;

The hopes and fears of all the years are met in thee tonight.

For Christ is born of Mary, and gathered all above,

While mortals sleep, the angels keep their watch of wond’ring love.

O morning stars, together proclaim the holy birth,

And praises sing to God the King, and peace to men on earth!

How silently, how silently, the wondrous Gift is giv’n;

So God imparts to human hearts the blessings of His Heav’n.

No ear may hear His coming, but in this world of sin,

Where meek souls will receive Him still, the dear Christ enters in.

Where children pure and happy pray to the blessed Child,

Where misery cries out to Thee, Son of the mother mild;

Where charity stands watching and faith holds wide the door,

The dark night wakes, the glory breaks, and Christmas comes once more.

O holy Child of Bethlehem, descend to us, we pray;

Cast out our sin, and enter in, be born in us today.

We hear the Christmas angels the great glad tidings tell;

Oh, come to us, abide with us, our Lord Emmanuel!