ACCEPT THE LIGHT
“Have a good day,” said Alavena. She pressed the coffee forward, fresh-blessed.
“It is not my custom,” Ms Gruben said.
I believe that,thought Alavena, refilling the sugar-packet caddy. The pained humor in Ms Gruben’s response did not evade her, and the bitterness which surrounded it.
For a moment she raised her eyes from wiping the counter, a quick glance, and saw the habits in the older woman’s eyes. Her dark clothing, clean but unrejoicing. Her posture, erect and weary in being erect. Lines at the corner of her mouth but none at the corners of her eyes.
“K’anchayta chaskiy” Alavena said, more aloud than she knew.
Ms Gruben leaned forward. “I did not hear you,” she said.
Alavena stopped wiping. “Forgive me,” she said. “It is something my ancestors said.”
Alavena looked down, finding an un-sponged spot.
“It is Quechua,” she said. “My people are from Peru.”
Ms Gruben face reflected not umbrage but interest. Finding courage whence she knew not, Alavena said, “It means Receive the Light.”
Ms Gruben left her mouth open in a most undignified pose. “Hmm,” she said, “Accipe Lucem.”
She reached into her dark but serviceable purse. She drew out a twelve-sided coin and pressed it into Alavena’s hand.
“Did you know I was a nun, once?” said Ms Gruben. She winked conspiratorially, took her coffee, and walked with life towards the door.
