Jonah to Joy

It started out a Jonah day. Nothing was right with my soul, as I drove to work with many thoughts weighing heavy, and a tight chest cough to boot. On top of that, my assistant director had texted me from home, letting me know she was out with a fever. I couldn't run the library by myself, and make my schedule daycare visit and the day just seemed impossible. When I got to work, I texted my mom, cried while booting up computers, and prayed that someone would come through to manage the library with me today.

The situation looked a little brighter when I remembered the phrase "Jonah day" from Anne of Avonlea. When the things that trouble me are named, I can look them in the face and bear them so much better than when they are unknown and unnamed. With a name I hold more power. Remembering Anne's Jonah day in cheered me a little. Imagining my favorite heroine's in similar circumstances usually has that effect on me.  I pulled my copy of Anne of Avonlea  when I got home tonight, first inhaling the scent of Bantam paperbacks that has been my favorite since I was small (I firmly hold that certain publishing houses have different scents, and I would like them all bottled, please) before scanning for the chapter I had in mind.  Anne's Jonah day was much worse than mine, I find, she experiencing troubles as a new teacher, and disciplining her students.  Marilla (Oh, Steady One! oh, Marilla!) comforts her, saying,
"You take things too much to heart, Anne. We all make mistakes... but people forget them. And Jonah days come to everybody." 
She also offers tea and plum puffs. Dear soul.

My day improved when my director came in early so we could open up the doors. And when my daycare of the day had kids eager to participate in my stories. And when, over lunch, my coworker Caleb started an intense fandom debate with me that continued throughout the day. And when my baby sister called me from home 'cause she wanted to talk to me. And when I joined my sister's artist group for a senior show.
And of course, when I finally made it home to sit and pull out my old friend Anne, and write.

There's joy in this ending.