Going Home

By Paula Appleby

Common Ground has been open one full year and is proving to be a successful and popular coffee shop. A group of misfits have become the cornerstone to Josie's success, which in turn, affords them opportunities to regain lost confidences. Josie keeps a journal in an effort to recall memories, but her journal reveals memories can often be very elusive. She discovers in her entries that looking toward the future is often tied to events of the past. Going home brings memories; and those memories, in turn, bring us right back home again. Home is the source of everything: hope, faith, struggles, security, sadness, and blessings. Home is family and where memories and futures are built. It is a place of love. It can be life's ultimate destination. Everyone searches for a home. But sometimes, home chooses you.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Covenant Books, Inc.
• Release date: Oct 9, 2019
• ISBN: 9781645594499

Book preview

The First Anniversary of Common Ground

We were all bustling around, making sure everything was perfect. I was so nervous! It was the first anniversary of the grand opening of Common Ground, and I was about to receive the honor from our town for Most Successful Nonprofit for the calendar year. The local newspaper was coming to do an interview, and the photographer had been by the day before to take pictures.

I scurried around cleaning, straightening, and arranging everything to look perfect, then thought, Maybe not so perfect, Josie! That’s not a true portrayal of the folks who got you started!

I brushed the hair back out of my eyes, rubbed my hand over my stomach, and tried to calm the butterflies that seemed out of control in there.

Josie! Where shall I put these? Brad entered the kitchen area with a huge bundle of sunflowers.

Oh, my love, how perfect! Can we put one on each table and then a few on the counter? I reached for some empty bottles I had stored on the shelves. Brad set himself to cutting the stems, adding a bit of water to each bottle and placing them around the shop. I watched him and smiled. How did I ever get so lucky to be engaged to such a wonderful man?

I heard a camera click behind me and turned to see Girlie scrolling back at a photo she had just taken.

Perfect! she whispered and bounced off to sneak up behind Brad.

How sweet, she was probably making prints to hang up on my wall beside all our opening the shop candid photos she had posted just a year ago before opening day. Girlie was like the mom of our little group, always taking care of the details everyone else seemed to forget about.

Just then the bell on the door jingled, and we all looked to see a silhouette fill the doorway.

Hey, Martin! I called and waved.

Now, how did you know it was me? He smiled and leaned over to hug me.

Every day at lunch Martin had come to the coffee shop to visit me where I was working summers. Now that I had Common Ground on the outskirts of town, he stopped by every evening on the way home. Never missed a day and you could just about set your watch by him.

Just like clockwork—5:15.

Martin glanced around the shop and began to smile. I know he was proud of all the hard work we had done to get Common Ground going. And more than anyone, he knew the real meaning of value. From the days when he lived his upper middle class life with his wife to the days he lived on the streets after her suicide and his losing everything, Martin always knew the value of remaining true to you and being honest. He was a man of God and knew whatever life threw at you, if you were honest with yourself, you would surely get by and rise above.

Those first few days when I saw him around the dumpster, at first alone and then with Girlie, I looked at this disheveled man and wondered what his story was. Just starting college, I was beginning my journey of learning about myself and who I would become in this life. I was fascinated by him. I was drawn to him. I somehow knew he was meant to be in my life, and I knew he would show me life lessons I could never imagine.

From that first day four years ago, working summers at the coffee shop to becoming like family, I never imagined where they would really go!

And now an accomplished business owner for one full year.

It was hard to believe five years had already passed.

And this was only the beginning.

And Then the Press Showed Up

Josie, tell us how the concept of Common Ground came to be? The reporter waved his arm around, signaling the camera guy to scan the shop, take it all in for the viewers at home watching.

Oh, how I hoped Nana and Grandpa were able to watch tonight! For all she had been through, Nana was doing remarkably well. Her memory was slightly affected by the stroke, and her left leg lagged a bit when she walked, but she was one determined woman and overcame all the obstacles. Grandpa was right there by her side every day while she was in the hospital, rehab, and eventually home. He waited on her, and I think he stayed awake every night for the first few weeks to be sure she didn’t fall once she got home. Married for sixty-one years, I guess that is how you go through life. I wondered if Brad and I would be married that long.

Nana used to tease us and say, There’s no place like home… while she was recovering, and it really was true.

Going home.

Probably the most comforting words ever spoken.

I began to tell the reporter how I had hoped to own a coffee shop and worked at the one in town all the summers I was in college and how my dream became reality through the many gifts of so many folks in my life. Starting with the $10,000 scratch ticket Nana and Grandpa gave me just before I left for college. I was talking about how I put the money in the bank and would only use it for my one day plan of owning a coffee shop. The rest of my budget came from the money and tips I made at the coffee shop.

As if on cue, the door opened and Nana, Grandpa, Mom, and Dad walked in. The camera panned to them, and the reporter smiled. Your family, Josie?

Yes! I rushed over to hug each of them.

So tell me how you got the name Common Ground. Why not name it after yourself or one of these very influential folks in your life?

I began to tell the story about the recurring theme of finding common ground that first year of college: I found common ground with a group of misfits out back by the dumpster, I found common ground with my new friends and roommates at college, I found common ground at a local co-op soup kitchen we worked at with people from various walks of life, and I found common ground with the people pictured in my own coffee shop. I didn’t plan to own a coffee shop that relied on Wi-Fi and other technological trends to bring folks in. I designed my coffee shop to bring people together and find their own common ground. Going out for coffee should be just that—finding common ground and talking about it.

I’d like to hear more about this group of misfits out back by the dumpster. Tell us about that and what they taught you? The reporter rested her hand on her chin. I couldn’t help but notice how interested she seemed. She wasn’t even writing it down.

Without naming names, I told the story of seeing the man on my very first day looking disheveled and worn out. As he picked at the day-old tosses from the coffee shop in the dumpster, I began to feel not disgust but intrigue. His coat seemed at least two sizes too large, it was filthy, and yet he had a presence about him. He seemed to command my respect. I told the reporter about my daily visits with him and how over time I met several others who frequented the dumpster with him.

Were you bothered or scared by them? I mean, they were street people, right? she asked and made a note in her notebook.

No, no, they never scared me, really, I said. I glanced at Martin, who sat reading a newspaper and sipping his coffee. I would never reveal who he was, but I looked to him and drew the words I needed to tell his story.

I just knew under the exterior there was an honest and true gentleman who had lost everything and somehow deserved the chance to reclaim it. Call it dignity. Call it honesty. Call it integrity. It’s a deep-rooted value, and I think we all look for it.

I saw Martin smile and sip his coffee. His eyes twinkled, and he nodded ever so slightly at me.

Fascinating… The reporter seemed to drift off. She looked in the direction I had been glancing. I looked again, and Martin was gone.

Now tell me where the idea for the co-op came from. It’s rather unusual for someone your age to want to give back so much and not strive for the coveted six-figure salary common in business ventures, no? She chewed on the end of her pencil.

I told the story about working at Round the Table in the city and how I learned the business practice of a co-op: you offer the services and the customers either pay their way or come back and work it off. I had been a volunteer at Round the Table all four years of college and knew better than anyone it was a tried-and-true system. Based on dignity and respect, you deliver with honesty and you receive with honesty. And so the idea of Common Ground was born, so to speak.

And your financial backing? Certainly, a nonprofit must have some sort of backing? Where did you find your resources, if I may ask?

I didn’t feel comfortable disclosing that entire story, but I told enough about someone I had done business with who had now decided to use his wealth to fund my ventures and put value in me. Again, the idea of common ground, I felt. We had started as maybe not being on common ground, but when I remained true to myself and my set of values, it seemed to spark something in him and he began to value my ideas.

My ideas had value.

I think the idea of respect shines through in everything. If you give respect, you get respect. Everyone deserves to be respected, regardless of what walk of life they come from.

I told the reporter how at first we planned to have my coffee shop closer to the city, closer to Round the Table, but this place on the outskirts of my home town came up, and I decided it was best to stay closer to home. I had not realized the needs in my town before working at the coffee shop, and meeting my small group of misfit friends and the needs in the city were overwhelming at times. With my family and Brad being here, I knew this is where I had to be for now.

We ended the interview segment with a quick introduction of my family and Brad. I wished I could introduce all my staff and the quirky folks who gave me the structure to press on with Common Ground, but none of them would agree to being interviewed. They insisted the credit be all mine today. That was fine by me. I wouldn’t be here without any of them, and they knew it.

The sign on the door said it all after all!

Common Ground.

I spent some time showing the video crew around, pointing out the wall of quotes, photos of the development, and telling the story of Common Ground a bit more. I was so proud of all it had become. In my first year to be given the honor of Most Successful Nonprofit for the year by my town was amazing. I rubbed my tummy again, trying to calm the butterflies as we waited for the town manager and a few other officials to arrive.

I was so proud to introduce Girlie to the crew. She had become my right-hand girl, as she liked to be called.

Manager isn’t me. I just can’t do that. It’s too restricting, she said when I had asked if I could make her my manager. She was just a natural at taking control of things but more like a mom would do. She loved getting in and doing the daily tasks, making sure everything was done to make everyone feel at home, taken care of, and belonged. That was generally how my shop worked. It was a business, of course, but it was more like a home away from home for so many. I had no idea five years ago how many homeless we had in our area, how many vets we had who were just getting by and suffering from so many different things from their time of service to our country. I didn’t realize how many levels of homeless there were: some were legitimately street people; others were living with relatives due to circumstances; and many were living in shelters, displaced from their normal lives, neighborhoods, and schools.

They needed a place to call home. Everyone needs a place that feels like home.

Going home.

Probably the most comforting words ever felt.

Girlie had been homeless for several years before I met her behind the coffee shop five years ago. She never really gave me her full story about how she became homeless, and I never asked her to reveal all the details. When I first met her and Martin, I had no idea what their relationship was. It was evident they had formed a tight bond, and the more I got to know them, the more I realized how vastly different their lives had been, and yet somehow, they had formed this bond and took care of each other on the streets, in life and emotionally. It fascinated me to see their unspoken sharing of life as I watched from the doorway on my breaks those first few weeks. It was the beginning of finding common ground, I suppose.

Girlie, I wish I could make you manager of this place, I had said to her as we were putting the finishing touches on the shop just over a year ago.

She smiled at me and continued hanging photos on the wall, carefully twisting each frame to hang perfectly straight. Stepping back to look, she chewed on her thumb nail and wrinkled her lips up. Wiping any lingering fingerprints off the glass, she stepped away.

Goodness, no, I just couldn’t do that. I love you, Josie, and I am more than happy to do anything here for you, but managing is just not my style. But I do have an idea as to who you could appoint as your assistant manager…

The First Staff Meeting

A month before the ribbon cutting ceremony for Common Ground I had nearly my entire staff in place. It thrilled me to think my staff reflected what the cornerstone of my business would be: a chance to help others, give them the support they need to become more and move on to better.

And so I appointed Girlie my co-manager. She agreed to it only if it meant she didn’t have to be hard on people. I readily agreed.

Maddie became my assistant manager.

What a fantastic idea, Girlie! I exclaimed when she brought the idea up to me. And how appropriate for the backbone of my business!

Maddie was a young mother with three girls who had become hooked on heroin. The heroin epidemic that gripped so many during the past few years had become real, and I faced it through the friendship I formed with Girlie and Martin. Girlie had become sort of a surrogate mother/grandmother to Maddie and her girls while Maddie floated in and out of the demonic life that a heroin addict lived. She would be around for her girls and then just disappear for prolonged periods of time. Finally, the courts had stepped in, removed the girls from Maddie’s care, and appointed Girlie as their guardian. With Martin’s help, Girlie and the three girls became a family, living together first in a shelter home for families like them and eventually together when Maddie became well enough to move home full time and resume her duties as their mother. Girlie stayed with them, and somehow, they became this wonderful family unit, each filling a role in each other’s life that was a void until they all met. Martin had never had children and was more than willing to serve as dad/grandpa to the girls and Maddie. It was wonderful to see.

One of the terms of Maddie’s coming home and learning to resume her role as mother to her three daughters was she had to have full-time employment or part-time and be enrolled in classes to further her education and employment status. With the help of some benefits for a time, she was working toward the goal of financial independence. Her oldest daughter well into her teen years and seeking schooling and employment herself, Maddie said her biggest goal was to be a positive role model in all her daughters’ lives. They studied together at night and worked more like friends to run the house and raise the younger two girls, Ariel and Lexi. They all spent so much time with Girlie and in my shop, it only made sense to hire Maddie. With Girlie and I to guide her, I thought assistant manager seemed a great title for her.

Green Leaf became my head cook. We soon began to realize in our little group of peculiar friends that Green Leaf could not just cook, he could cook anything. The first year I worked at the coffee shop and we all celebrated Thanksgiving at one of the farms just outside of town, I knew Green Leaf, had he not been homeless, could be a master chef. That first Thanksgiving, celebrating like pioneers, was most heartwarming. Green Leaf cooked a turkey on an open fire with all the fixins. The cabin glowed with candlelight and a fire in the fireplace; it was truly the warmest feeling I had ever felt before, to be surrounded by such simplicity and love. Before Common Ground opened, he was doing some cooking for a friend at a local shop but I hoped to give him a more permanent job and offered him the position.

Oh, Miss Josie! he said with tears in his eyes. "I never dreamed I’d be good enough to be head anything! Thank you, thank you, thank you a million times over! I will make you proud to have me in your fine establishment!"

So far it had been easy to hire staff for my shop. But now I had to put up flyers and get some folks in to help serve. My shop would operate very similar to Round the Table but on a smaller menu since we were just a coffee shop and not a soup kitchen serving meals. The idea was to have as few paid employees as you could survive with. Folks who could afford a cup of coffee and a small refreshment could pay, and those who could not would be required to come back within a day or two to work. The work options were serving, cleaning, and cooking. I figured I had Girlie, Maddie, and myself; so I would need two or three more to complete my staff. Maddie’s oldest daughter, Vanessa, was soon turning sixteen and was eager to start her first job too. Maddie’s two younger daughters came to the shop every day after school since Maddie and Girlie were there, and they could stay and visit and not have to go home to an open house. Since they were there they considered themselves part of the staff and did an invaluable number of tasks to make the time pass and help us.

I stopped to pinch myself often, wondering how it was I got so blessed in life to have these people come to me at just the right time.

And I always heard Nana’s voice when that pinching moment happened:

Serve up quality and you’ll never lack for hearts around your table.

It was a motto she lived by.

It was a motto I lived by.

Once I had my staff hired and we had our first meeting before getting everyone trained, we spent a few days doing mock servings with Green Leaf’s food. I insisted on everyone being treated the same, with the same fairness, dignity, and respect whether they were a paying customer or someone coming to work off their short visit. So far it was running smoothly with everyone on board and doing well with the presentation of how the concept worked.

And that is how Common Ground opened. It was the most exciting day of my life. Just a few short months after graduating from college I was a business owner. My own business!

I wanted to keep a journal to remember every detail. Much like the journal I began that first day at the coffee shop before college, I wanted to keep a journal of every step of my life to reflect and keep me grounded, to keep myself on track of what my goals were. With my family behind me, my fiancée by my side, some great financial support, and a great staff, I knew I could do this.

After the Press Left

It was great getting the award from the town, having the press here to take pictures and run a story on me and my shop. But honestly, it all felt rather awkward. I was happy to close the door and begin the real day after the last cameraman and reporter said their good-bye.

We closed for a quick half hour to enjoy lunch and get the shop ready for our customers. The lunch had been provided by Mr. Desmond.

Here we go. He began to lay out platters of deli meat, bread, and salad for us to make sandwiches. We all stood around the gorgeous counter Bonkers had made. On it he had etched some of my favorite quotes that were the basis of my life and business. It still shined as bright as the day he put it up. I ran my hand along the counter, pausing at a few and thinking back to when I had discovered each of them. So many influential people in my life, so many writings that meant so much to me.

Josie, thank you so much for the way you introduced me to the reporters, Maddie said as she made a sandwich for herself. "It’s really important for people to realize this heroin epidemic is taking lives and destroying so many good people, but that there is a light on the other side. If it weren’t for you, Martin, Girlie, and my girls, I would have been