The Song of Gratitude

As Sister Maria set the table with her finished dishes, the children began to sing. Their voices, sweet and clear, filled the room with a melody that seemed to lift the very air. Gareth joined in, his deep voice harmonizing with the children's.

"Thank you, oh thank you, for the food we share,

For the hands that prepared it, with love and care.

For the bounty before us, so rich and so fair,

We sing our gratitude, for the blessings we bear."

The song was a tradition at the orphanage, a ritual of gratitude before every meal. The lyrics spoke of thankfulness for the food, the hands that prepared it, and the blessings they enjoyed. Father Wingate didn't sing, but he flashed a big smile, savouring the harmony as it filled the room. Even Sister Maria joined in, her voice blending with the others as she set the food down, one dish at a time.

Luke was a bit bewildered by the singing, unfamiliar with the song or the tradition. Yet, he wasn't too shocked; he simply followed along as best he could. He didn't know the lyrics, not one bit, but he tried to hum whatever part he could catch, blending his voice softly with the others.

The children's faces were alight with joy as they sang, their eyes shining with a mix of reverence and excitement. Gareth's voice, rich and comforting, carried a sense of belonging and nostalgia. Luke observed this, feeling a pang of something he couldn't quite name. Was it envy? Or was it a longing for a sense of community he had never truly known?

The song continued, filling the room with its simple yet profound message:

"For the roof above us, the warmth and the light,

For the love that surrounds us, day and night.

For friends and family, both far and near,

We sing our gratitude, with voices clear."

Luke hummed along, feeling a strange sense of peace. The melody, the words, the collective harmony—it all felt like a warm embrace, a moment of unity and shared gratitude. Despite being an outsider, he felt a connection to these people and their traditions.

Sister Maria's voice was soothing, a gentle anchor amidst the children's enthusiastic singing. Her eyes met Luke's for a moment, and she smiled, a gesture of welcome and understanding. Luke returned the smile, feeling a bit more at ease.

As the song drew to a close, the room fell into a comfortable silence, the echoes of their voices lingering in the air. Father Wingate stood, his smile broad and genuine. "Thank you, children, and thank you, Sister Maria, for this wonderful meal. Let us now enjoy the fruits of our gratitude."

With that, the meal began. The children's chatter resumed, interspersed with laughter and the clinking of utensils. Luke found himself seated between Gareth and a small girl who seemed particularly fascinated by him. She kept sneaking glances at him, her curiosity evident.

"That was beautiful. I've never heard anything like it," Luke leaned over to Gareth and whispered.

"It's a tradition here. A song of gratitude before every meal. It reminds us of what we have, and how fortunate we are, even in the smallest ways," Gareth nodded, his eyes soft with fond memories.

Luke smiled, feeling a warmth spread through him.

"Why have I never heard you sang it during our travel?" he joked quietly, more to himself than anyone else.

"It's embarrassing, of course. But when together, all like this, in this place... it has a way of making you feel at home, no matter where you come from," Gareth's smile widened.

As the meal progressed, Luke continued to observe and absorb the atmosphere. The food was simple but delicious, prepared with care and love. The children's laughter and the adults' gentle conversations created a backdrop of warmth and community.

At that moment, amidst the laughter and the shared meal, Luke felt a sense of belonging he hadn't experienced in a long time. The journey ahead still held many uncertainties, but here, in the heart of the City of Purewood, he found a flicker of hope and a promise of new beginnings.

Luke took another bite of the stew, savouring the rich flavours. Unlike the bland roast meat and staple bread he and Gareth usually had on their travels, this was a culinary delight. The stew, with its tender meat and perfectly cooked vegetables, was a far cry from their usual fare. The spices and herbs infused each bite with warmth and complexity, reminding Luke of estofados, a Spanish dish he had once saved up for after a week of street magic performances.

Curiosity gnawing at him, Luke leaned over to Gareth and whispered.

"What kind of meat is this?"

"Lizard," Gareth, nonchalantly, replied.

Luke's heart nearly dropped.

"Lizard?"

His mind immediately conjured images of the small, brownish house lizards he frequently saw in the back alleys. The thought of eating one of those creatures made his grip on his spoon falter, and it slipped from his hand, clattering loudly against the stone floor.

The sudden noise drew the attention of everyone at the table. Sister Maria's face showed concern as she asked.

"Is everything alright? Is the food not to your taste, Luke?"

Luke felt a wave of embarrassment wash over him. His cheeks flushed, and he stammered.

"No, it's... it's delicious. Really," he bent down to retrieve his spoon, but as he sat back up, a boy sitting next to him handed him a fresh, clean spoon.

"Here, use this one," the boy said with a shy smile.

"Thank you," Luke replied, taking the spoon gratefully. He resumed eating, determined to push the thought of lizards out of his mind. Despite knowing what he was eating, the stew was undeniably delicious. Sister Maria's smile returned, and Luke found himself relaxing once more, enjoying the meal.

As the dinner continued, the children's chatter and laughter filled the room, creating a comforting and lively atmosphere. Luke observed how Gareth interacted with the kids, his demeanour gentle and caring. It was clear that Gareth held a special place in their hearts, and they in his.

The warmth of the stew and the camaraderie of the dinner soothed Luke. He found himself appreciating the simplicity and the heartfelt effort put into the meal. It was a stark contrast to his usual solitary existence, filled with transient encounters and fleeting connections.

Luke's thoughts wandered back to his childhood. He remembered the rare moments of warmth and comfort he had managed to carve out for himself amidst the chaos of his parents' constant fighting. Those moments had been his sanctuary, much like this dinner felt now—a reprieve from the uncertainties of life.

As the meal drew to a close, the children began to help clear the table, their cheerful voices filling the room with a sense of community and belonging. Sister Maria and Father Wingate exchanged smiles, pleased with the evening's success.

"You did well. They like you," Gareth leaned over to Luke, his voice low.

"Thanks. I think I like them too," Luke smiled, feeling a strange sense of pride.

"Thank you all for a wonderful meal. Let's not forget to help with the cleanup. And Luke, Gareth, thank you for joining us tonight," with the table cleared, Sister Maria stood and addressed everyone.

As everyone began to tidy up, Luke felt a profound sense of gratitude. He was thankful for the food, the company, and the sense of belonging that had eluded him for so long. In the heart of the City of Purewood, amidst its peculiarities and charm, Luke found himself a part of something meaningful.

The night ended with a sense of fulfilment and hope, a promise of new beginnings and a reminder that even in the most unexpected places, one could find a home.

As the children and adults worked together to clear the table and tidy up, Luke couldn't help but feel a deeper connection to this place. The camaraderie and genuine care that filled the room were unlike anything he had experienced in a long time. It was a stark contrast to his past life, where survival often meant staying detached and wary of others. Here, in the City of Purewood, among these kind-hearted people, he felt a sense of community that was both comforting and invigorating.

Luke found himself drawn to Sister Maria, who moved gracefully among the children, offering gentle guidance and encouragement. He marvelled at her ability to balance discipline with warmth, and he admired the way she interacted with each child, knowing them by name and understanding their individual needs. It was clear that this place, and these people, were more than just a temporary refuge for him—they represented a new beginning, a chance to build bonds that could last a lifetime.

As the last of the dishes were put away and the children were shepherded off to bed, Gareth approached Luke, his expression reflecting a mixture of exhaustion and contentment.

"Ready to call it a night?" he asked, his voice soft but filled with warmth.

Luke nodded, feeling the weight of the day's events settle over him.

"Yeah, I think so. It's been a long day."