by Charles McKelvy
“. . . rarely have we seen a person fail who has thoroughly followed . . .”
That was all he needed to hear.
That and the stale house coffee and the basket being pushed in front of him as though he had money growing out of his pockets.
What’s with these people?
Who do they think they are?
Do they have any idea who I am?
What’s she reading now?
“. . . half measures availed us nothing. We stood at the turning point. We asked his protection and care with complete abandon . . . we admitted we were powerless over—“
Wait a minute. Wait a gol-darn minute. What do they take me for?
“ . . . many of us exclaimed, ‘What an order! I can’t go through with it.’ Do not be discouraged—“
So what’s the point?
“ . . . the point is, that we are willing to grow along spiritual lines . . .”
And with that he really began to listen, and he really began to like the house coffee, and he really didn’t mind throwing a buck in the basket. Not when it was so clearly keeping him sober.
One day at a time.