When my daughter was small I’d throw her in the
umbrella stroller and head down to Java Junction. Java is a quirky-cool coffee shop in my
little town in Western NY. It is a place
where you can grab a cup of coffee and a fresh baked scone and settle right
in. Kids and babies are always
welcome. So, when my, now thirteen year
old, daughter was just a wee thing, I would escape to Java.
I could nurse her without being looked at sideways or
being asked to leave. I could sit for as
long as I wanted while she slept peacefully in the stroller or squirmed in my
arms. As she grew, she didn't just want breast milk though, I could get her a
bagel or a grilled cheese and a lidded cup of juice. I was given cookies and smiles and boxes of
crayons for her active little hands. It didn't matter if she was fussy or quiet;
she –and all children—were always welcome.
Fast forward a few years and my son came into the
picture. Now,
I had new infant snuggled in the sling as well as a slow-shuffling toddler.
The five minute walk now took what felt like twenty years. Yet still, we went and the years passed
swiftly by. Soon, strollers and slings
and wagons were abandoned and we would walk and skip and sometimes dance to our
downtown destination.
We’d meet friends or have coffee with my husband. We’d have prolonged breakfasts that eased into leisurely
lunches. We’d run in for a cold
drink in the summer or a cookie and hot cocoa in the winter. Today we still go to Java, though everyone
can get there on their own steam, and my girl can now go there all by herself
when the urge calls to her.
The sense of home and love and family is why I chose
to pass out Armistead Maupin’s Tales of the City to my friends at Java
Junction for the second year in a row. There we all sat with coffee and bagels and
tea and cookies. Several of us sent our
kids off to school that morning, and others came with toddlers and infants. We passed around little baby Phin and I
looked at his sweet face as he swatted Cheerios on the table. I saw my girl and boy and every “Java Baby”
in his eyes, and I knew I had chosen the right place, the right people, the
right book; a book that could take us far away to the other coast to visit with
Mona and Mrs. Madrigal, and Mary Ann. We could close
our eyes and see a city bright with life in the not too distant past. Each and every one of us needed an escape and
a gift, and I was thrilled to be able to hand over those books to some very
happy women.
Thanks to World Book Night 2014 for making this all possible.
