Fantastic Fridays: Patience & Fortitude

lions

Fantastic Fridays: Patience & Fortitude

lionsDuring my final days in NYC, I am compelled to share a passage from Blue Moon. Helen has guided me to many places in this city. And one of my favourites is the New York Library.

I felt her presence by the lions. Showing me the way to love and adventure. And connecting with Patience and Fortitude.

Enjoy! xo


As she crossed 42nd Street, Helen knew she had a long walk before getting home, but she slowed her pace anyway. She was approaching her favorite spot. She didn’t care that her colleagues at the agency thought it was cliché. Helen adored the New York Library.

Whenever she had a crappy day, she headed straight for the lions. When she felt like she didn’t fit anywhere or was especially lonely, she could count on the lions to make her feel at home. She secretly wondered whether she lived a past life as a gladiator or a queen who kept them as guardians in her bedroom.

Helen wanted to shoo the tourists away but the lions never appeared diminished by people climbing all over their backs. They held their heads high and calmly surveyed the territory in front of the regal edifice. These lions had more dignity than anyone she had met in her life. Except maybe Logan.

She felt compelled to pay her respects. As crazy as it sounded, she thought they might miss her a little — that’s how often she came to see them. Not that she had that many bad days. But she wasn’t one to let a whole lot of folks in. And the lions knew how to keep a secret. If any day counted as a day for the secret books, this was it.

As she approached, Helen saw a couple of scruffy looking street kids. She spotted them a mile away. And kept a close eye on their location, figuring they were pickpockets ready to take advantage of distracted tourists. They looked innocent enough, but she could tell the girl had been on the streets most of her life.

Helen knew there was a strange underbelly of New York filled with kids. They didn’t go by their real names, even to each other. That’s how scared and scarred they were by what they escaped. No one chose the street unless the alternative option was about as close to hell as you can imagine.

Although Helen was an orphan, she scored big time with her adoptive parents. Despite losing one of them at six and the other at sixteen, she had been loved. She may not have felt understood, but she always felt safe. Helen knew she was lucky, despite the recent surprise of her brother.

She couldn’t blame her wayward approach to life on her adoptive parents. Helen put that one on the shoulders of the cowards who gave her up. That was harsh, she knew. But she figured there was some connection between her crazy phobia of intimacy and her brother’s desire to blow up the world.

Somehow her thoughts about crazy families made her want to approach the scruffy teen urchins and give them cash. She never handed out free money, especially to kids who looked like they pinched things to survive, but she was having a tender moment.

“I wouldn’t go near them,” a voice said.


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Kate Tremills
kate@katetremills.com
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