From the Windows of Waverly’s
As the guy behind the counter of a little coffee shop in a quaint Texas town, I get a unique view not only through the big glass windows, but also into the lives of everyday quaint town Texans.
During the slow times, I find myself looking out those big windows facing the main road, reflecting on the reality we find ourselves in. The past few weeks, I’ve been noticing the cars at the stoplight a half block up. When we moved here three years ago, if the stoplight held up two or three cars, my wife Kasity would say, “It’s a busy day in Cisco.”
As the years have passed, though, the line of cars has increased, and sometimes stretches the entire block. Whether there is a larger pattern that brings more traffic through Cisco, or it is all the flowers, plants, and new storefronts that brings people north to the heart of downtown, we have seen an increase in traffic. It makes us smile.
But sometimes I find myself in the car at the end of the line as the light turns red. Part of me is tempted to exhale a grunt at the apparent bad luck of having to wait. But then I remember how much of my life was spent at stoplights in Dallas, Fort Worth, and Austin. One light might turn green three times and I’d still be a green away from my turn through. In Austin, I lived three miles from work, and it took about 45 minutes to get up Lamar.
Stoplights in Cisco are nothing to get impatient about. In fact, it’s a great opportunity to look out the window and observe the constant changes, read the business’ chalkboards up and down the street, or just take a deep breath and appreciate being exempt from the big city’s rat race gridlock.
If you find yourself stopped in front of Waverly’s, know that there is a guy behind the counter in there praying for you in your short wait, and hoping you read the phrase in steel letters just above the arched doors. It’s a beautiful day.