The trees have lit my walk to work these past few weeks through drizzle and mist. An old woman dressed all in black walks hunched against the wind, her black bags strapped to a pull-cart, yellow leaves wrapped around the wheels. People tumble into the shop glad for the warmth, the dry, and something good to eat.
Thanksgiving is not a restful time for small bakeries. We're inundated with those who are desperately trying to please their inlaws and want someone else to blame and those who have found themselves alone for yet another holiday and have decided that they would rather it be by their own choice. But, even as hectic as it becomes, I find that there are endless things to be thankful for...from the woman who needed something for her vegan brother and I had just the thing she wanted to the man who told me a joke as I rung him up. The woman who sat down and had coffee on me because it was the first time she had gotten to slow down that day and the look on our bread baker's face whem she heard how excited people were about the loaves she has worked so hard to develop.
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