Dear Mr. Sparks,
It’s been a while since I last wrote to you. Great things have been happening around the charity. We’re anxiously waiting for the Masquerading Angels Ball.
But we’ll get to those in other letters.
For now, I would like to tell you a little more about the inner-workings of the CHERUBS headquarters.
As you know, we’re based out of the endearing town of Wake Forest. I say “endearing” when in reality, this little town should be committed to an asylum. Every so often, I step out onto the street where there are pontificating seminarians, teenagers smoking cigarettes, and yoga-panted moms dripping with sweat from Zumba.
Every once in a while, we are graced by the presence of a Hispanic man with a glorious smile. He rides around town on his bicycle. Jimmy-rigged to his handle bars, he has two car speakers that blare mariachi music.
On one particular morning, this town provided me with comfort. The day before, we received news of the passing of a precious CDH baby. This hit me particularly hard and I really didn’t want to show up at the office the next morning.
After sitting at my desk in silence for a couple hours, I walked down the steps. Opening the door, I was immediately greeted by a chorus of voices bellowing the chorus to “Don’t Stop Believing.” The group was led by a tiny old man beating on a djembe, and a leather-clad, neo-punk twenty-something on guitar.
In the next instant, my feet were surrounded by a pack of dogs of all different types and sizes. They were jumping, yipping, and dancing in circles (yes, I’m talking about the dogs, but this wouldn’t be inaccurate to say about the group of hair metal bards). The mayor of Wake Forest came walking up the sidewalk with a huge smile on her face. The owner of the local coffee shop stood in his doorway watching the din. On the other side was a group of teenagers (skipping school) drawing with chalk all over the road and sidewalk.
It was lovely.
It was exactly what I needed.
This job can be difficult at times, but this event reminded me that we are in this together as a community. Not everyone knows every single detail, but we lean on each other just the same.
Jason Kuehn Miller