Ella planned her strategy to survive the ordeal of her first Christmas without Jim. She needed to keep busy; give herself no time to brood on dire subjects like loneliness; no time to revive painful memories; no time to regret doing those things which she ought not to have done and not doing those that she ought to have done.
So she looked in Yellow Pages for a local homeless shelter charity. She cooked and baked and braised and roasted; packed a laundry basket with the feast, and drove to the shelter, where her goodies were received with oohs and ahs from the helpers and “customers”.
Ella was on the point of leaving when in shuffled a skinny, scruffy old man with several days’ growth of grizzled beard below dazzling brown eyes.
‘Jim?’ gasped Ella.
‘I’ve really missed your cooking’ he muttered. ‘Sorry dear, that didn’t come out as I meant it. I’ve missed you. ’
They linked arms and together marched out of the hall.