Yesterday a local newswoman, Wendy Bell, wrote this on her Facebook page, and I really enjoyed it:
I start every morning with a cup of coffee freshly ground and brewed in my obscenely overpriced in-wall coffee maker that I admittedly would not be able to live without. (Joe nearly choked when he saw the price tag, but this is the same man who said a second floor laundry room was a dumb idea, so take what you will from that... ) I wake up 30 minutes before I get the boys up for school every day ... simply so I can sit with my coffee at the kitchen counter and watch the sun rise. Hey. Everyone has A Thing.
I like Starbucks just fine, but people who are Starbucks Freaks remind me of why I never saw Titanic. Sometimes NOT doing what everyone else is doing is liberating. The ship sank, right? What more do I need to know? $5 for a latte? Sometimes. But rarely.
We reported tonight on one man's outrage that Starbucks has decided to do away with its "Christmas" coffee cups. Translation: The cups are still red, but there are no more white snowflakes or snowmen or sleds on them. Scandalous. People are calling for a boycott. Think Chick-Fil-A with a shot of espresso. There's always someone who needs to start a fight about something. Even if that something is Flat. Out. Stupid.
I remember when Christmas was about a feeling. The smell of a neighbor's wood-burning fireplace. The crunch of snow under your feet. That perfect stillness in the winter air at night -- and the stars. My gosh. Is there anything more beautiful than a starry sky in December? People watching out for each other. Neighbors loving neighbors. Warm baths and feety pajamas and playing games in front of the fireplace. The simple stuff. Things you can't buy in a store. THAT'S Christmas. Not some stupid cup.
I feel badly for people who have nothing better to do than protest. There's a small minority of small-minded people whose life work is being upset about SOMETHING. Anything, really. As long as they can march. Or carry a sign. Or worse yet, a bullhorn. Rally the troops! Gather the weak! If something offends them they run to social media the way my youngest sons run to me when they're bleeding. I pity the Fault Finders. The Blamers. The people who don't seem to value the concept of working and earning and contributing and DREAMING.
I'm a size 0 or 2. I wouldn't expect Lane Bryant to carry my size, and I sure wouldn't protest them because they don't. If I was vegan, I wouldn't go to Morton's and launch a Twitter tirade because there weren't enough options for me on their menu. And I sure wouldn't go to McDonald's looking for a side of apples with my double cheeseburger. I want french fries there. And make sure mine are loaded with salt, thank you. I'm not eating there to lose weight.
So Starbucks, do whatever you have to do. The Christmas Spirit comes from within. It's not poured into a red cup. And when some jackwagon suggests that snowflakes and snowmen and sleds are somehow discriminatory to his or her religion? I hope you have the beans enough to tell that person to pound it.
I'll be thinking of you all tomorrow morning, as my over-priced slice of heaven grinds me a perfect cup of daybreak heaven. No protest at my kitchen counter. Just a little peace before I get my five boyfriends ready for another day that will come and go without protest.
So I decided to respond... and here it is:
Hi Wendy! I read your post this morning actually as I left Starbucks (yes I am one of those freaks, and wear that pretty proudly hehe) and have fought pretty hard to keep my mouth shut when this story came out about the cups. I thought it was a small group and the story just happened to go viral, and now we are all talking about it. But after reading your beautiful story this morning, I had to say something.
I think those people have it very wrong, Jesus is very present in Starbucks, and yes I completely understand how silly that may sound, but hear me out.
I developed a little routine with my youngest daughter since my oldest has started Kindergarten, twice a week we drive out to Starbucks (it is about a 10 minute drive from where we live) and enjoy a little treat and two drinks together. My daughter is two, and she gets a chocolate milk... not in the box, they make her a special one in a cup, which thrills her to no end.
I started doing this I will admit selfishly, because you know, mama needed her coffee and if I could convince my two year old that this was fun, then it was an excuse to go. But it turned into something else, and this is where I know Jesus exists inside that Starbucks when we go on our little trips.
Seeing the look on my daughter's face when they call her name at the bar to get her drink is priceless. "Who me??" She gets her very own cup, filled with milk and a little chocolate sauce stirred together (they sell boxes of milk but a barista suggested she make her a cup of milk one day as something special, and it just became her thing since then) with her name scribbled across it. Sometimes the baristas, if they have time on their busy mornings, will draw pictures or write a little message for her. They always smile at her and carefully pass it over to her little hands, and that smile could not stretch any wider across her face.
She then carefully carries it to "our table" where we sit with a treat that she gets to pick and my coffee. She sits in the booth, her little legs dangling, usually still in her footed pajamas because we had no time to change before getting big sister off to school. She savors every last drop of that drink, and always smiles and says hello to the people sitting around us.
When it's time to leave the barista always say "see you later alligator" to her and that just tickles her.
I believe Jesus is present in Starbucks, at least in ours, because for 20 minutes twice a week a little two year old doesn't have to be scared of the world. She can say hi to strangers, and see that people will go the extra mile without being asked or paid extra. That you can tip in smiles and giggles, and people will be nice not just because it is their job, but because just by her being there, she makes their day as much as they make hers. We went to the movies this past weekend and a warning played before it started saying to be on alert for "suspicious characters." We can't even go to the movies anymore without feeling like something bad may happen.
So I value those trips because for now, my little one thinks this world is pretty special, and she is special. She believes that magic can be found in a cup with her name written across it. Regardless of what that cup may look like... to her it's pure bliss.
Yes Jesus is present there, just come and see my two year old some morning. She will prove it.
