Sistah Shoop knew she would be unfamiliar to all that came around, but she had hope that in time all would find some comfort in who she was.  She had moved into a new neighborhood, into a new community as she struck out to live her life anew.

Where she had come from made no matter.  It was a part of a past that had only provided her with skills she would move forward with in her life.  Sistah Shoop held no resentments to that past; she had learned to forgive all that had taken from her life offering nothing in return, nothing so much as a thank you.  It was a large part of her being, as it should be with anyone she felt, forgiveness.

Sistah Shoop was not of a religious nature, but found it simpler to hang her hat on the spiritual.  Things happened and more often than not there were no co incidents.  She had long ago learned to live from her heart often ignoring the goings-on in her mind.  Using well-honed intuition seemed to provide her with the ability to step off any cliff and into a nothingness that seldom came with meeting a hard bottom quickly.  Shoop fully believed there was much in life that could only be found by taking such a step.  It wasn’t about comfort or safety as much as it was about pure living.

She was a big woman, both in stature and in her way of being.  It had taken most of her life to come to terms with either of these points.  And she no longer put much weight on societal beliefs.  Yes, in the eyes of most she could use to drop a few pounds and yes, in the minds of most she could be quite loud when bringing home a point, but who were these people, really?  And exactly what right did any of them have to pass judgment?  The world was full of many beliefs, but just how many of them could possibly be true all at once?

Sistah Shoop heard the backfire from the old truck and knew it was her one and only friend, in her new community, coming to visit.  Ms. Mess would come bearing a Dr. Pepper and olives stuffed with feta cheese.  These were her friend’s favorites.  She opened the kitchen cabinet and took out a glass.  Ms. Mess did not like bottles.  And the sound of the front door closing confirmed the young woman’s arrival.

She smiled at her visitor; her first houseguest, knowing Mess would never learn to use the doorbell or the doormat.  Some lessons in life just didn’t hold a lot of importance.  The young woman sat down the sack she carried and threw her arms out.  A smile stretched across her face about the size of Texas.  It was greeted with one more the size of Illinois.  But it was the hug that came next which bridged the two states.

Sistah Shoop stepped up and stepped in to embrace Ms. Mess.  It had been awhile since their last time together.  And in that stepping up Shoop knew that her life would somehow be forever different.  And by stepping in she understood it was only the beginning.