Therese loved her garden. A garden that grew in the cold, a garden that grew in the heat, it was a garden that grew with a little girl.

Unlike most gardens which are designed to keep rabbits out, this garden was designed to welcome rabbits in. Therese, who was peculiar in great kindness, worked the earth, watered the plants and the rabbits ate the garden. Therese was happy with this arrangement, her father had no choice, and her mother encouraged it, reminding her daughter kind people are always beautiful. The rabbits were grateful, and although they had arrived before the garden, they enjoyed its arrival almost as much as they had enjoyed the arrival of the young girl.

Since she could crawl, Therese crawled to the window. Since she could walk, Therese walked to the window, and since she could laugh, Therese looked at the window at the sweet little rabbits and laughed. The rabbits ran out every morning to see her. This was normal to her, and she was fortunate enough in heart to not know this wasn’t normal everywhere else.

When Therese was little, the rabbits followed her around the yard. When she started school, they walked with her to the bus stop and were there when she came home. Therese would read tales aloud to her rabbit friends on the porch, or even sitting on the dirt in the garden. Therese did not pet the rabbits, she would start to, and they would have let her, but she always pulled her hand back at the last moment.

Therese, who preferred to be kind and gentle, worked the earth into food for the rabbits. Her father, Rodger enjoyed his time with his daughter, and his daughter enjoyed the time with him. They turned the soil, planted seeds, and they watched the plants grow. He always smiled when she was little and would gladly feed the sweet rabbits carrots, and now he was filled with pride that as a teenager she had not lost her kindness as they worked the soil. Therese’s father was glad for their time together, but his back was relieved when his wife called them in for dinner. Therese’s father’s back did not seem as strong as when it was first made, The rabbits sat at the edge of the garden, smiling as rabbits do, whisker to whisker and ear to ear.

“Come in for dinner, the garden will be there tomorrow, but your dinner will be cold,” said Therese’s mother for the thousandth time in three years, “and wash your hands, I’m tired of dirt on the dinner table.” she added, unsure if she had not said that for the thousandth time either.

“This smells great mom.” said Therese, coming into the kitchen. Therese loved the aroma of her mother’s cooking, a real blessing she never took for granted. Therese’s voice was as flat and monotone as ever, but her mother could tell she was happy. She pulled off a long-sleeved shirt and hung it with a hat she wore while gardening which revealed her pale arms as she hung them up by the door.

Dinner passed as it always had. They were a thoughtful and loving family, who only sought kindness, and were always relieved to find it. They would always say “I love you” to each other every day and were grateful for everything they had. Dinner passed as it had over a thousand times in three years, they did the dishes together, and the parents retired to the living room to watch television for the night.

Today, however, was Friday, and a stray spark of misguided youth finally shot forth and reached Therese. She felt the shock, her ear twitched, and she knew watching television was not the proper way to misspend her youth this evening, even if it was with the parents she loved and who loved her.

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“Mom, Dad, can I borrow the car?” asked Therese. She was nervous, she feared them saying no even if they never had before.

“The library is closed.” said both parents at the same time, causing a grin for all three on their faces.

“I just want to go out, I saw this coffee shop.” said Therese. She had driven by it, but she had never made it inside the store. Her flat monotone voice had a rare hint of excitement, but it was barely detectable.

“Here, take my car.” said Therese’s father excited that she might be finally doing something less responsible, rebelling to be her own person, so he offered his car before his wife could counter with another response. He worried that Therese was too well behaved and knew from his own boyhood programming that misbehaving was an integral part of growing up. Her mother disagreed with the premise entirely. The relationship between Therese and her mother had distanced itself as she grew older, but Therese’s mother tried finding comfort in telling herself this was normal.

“Thank you, I love you both.” said Therese in her flat voice, taking the keys and going out the door.

“Do you think we should have given her a time to be home?” Asked Therese’s mother, always the one to push responsibility.

“What would it do, she would still be early.” said her father, switching his glance back to the television.

Therese drove the car carefully, but deliberately. The music was loud enough to be enjoyable, but not too loud to be distracting. Her hands were on the 10 and 2 o’clock positions on the steering wheel, and she glanced carefully to maintain awareness, but not lose her sight of the road. Inside, her heart raced, pounding and excited. As she neared her destination, her excitement grew, and she almost forgot to click the car alarm after she left the car.

The cold nipped at Therese as she walked from her car. She pulled her jacket tight before she stepped again. Therese looked around, she did not like walking in the dark, but she had a destination and she had determination. She stopped again to adjust her jacket, and then to step again. Therese was very careful. The cold tried creeping in, Therese shivered, but her resolve strengthened. The cold wind blew Therese’s hair in her face and she swatted it away, then grew frustrated as it came back, and finally grew slightly upset about her hair blocking her eyes and at the delay as she stopped to fix her hair back. Therese was about five feet of determination with her tallest shoes on, but every inch was earned courage in life and she wasn’t going to give up now.

Therese walked quickly, but as carefully as she could, to the coffee shop. There was a picture of a smiling pink cow on the door, which startled her, she jumped a bit, and she almost turned back. Therese reinforced her determination with her excitement, and shoved the pink cow door open, and entered. She took a step back, two steps forward, a step back, and then quickly walked to the counter. Therese kept her eyes turned away from the terrible cow as it stared at her.

The menu written on chalkboards was overwhelming. The letters in the words attempted to dance and rearrange themselves as Therese struggled to relax and calm herself. Therese felt herself becoming overwhelmed, but strength comes from courage, or maybe courage comes from strength she thought, twisting her right foot in, so her hip could not sway her to run out the door. She read the menu, the drinks might as well have been a foreign language, the letters she knew, the words formed unfamiliar. Therese shivered out of nervousness.

Therese sounded out the words but found her ability to read overwhelmed by the smells in the shop. She heard dice hitting a table, people laughing, and she smelled coffee, which she always wanted to try. Therese was worried the people would see her and laugh at her. Therese fought the urge to run out the door before everyone laughed at her.

“Hi,” said a soft voice, followed by a soft smile, “I’m Erin, this is my coffee shop, may I make you a drink?” asked Erin who was tall, beautiful, and a genuine smile that tried to hide an old sadness. She had dark eyes, dark hair and carefully held a baby as she worked.