Erin Curlett

Yesterday, I got on the elevator with a small, bespeckled woman carrying two large bouquets of roses.

“What floor?” she asked.

“Four, please.”

“Ah,” she said. “Me, too.”

I motioned to her flowers. “Those are gorgeous.”

She nodded. “Where are you going?”

My cheeks flushed. “Ah…therapy.” I gave her a sheepish grin.

As the doors began to open, she reached down and pulled out two roses. “Here,” she said. “I have plenty.”

And for a moment, as I sat in the waiting room gazing into the beautiful faces of my new friends, Fear took a step back.