Storytelling Saturdays: Inspirational Flash Fiction by Auri Jones

THE CARDS

The meeting was over. Finally. What had started out as being a somewhat manageable day turned into a depressing swan-dive into a pool of disappointment as ninety-minutes of “here is where we are going wrong” and “here is what corporate is planning to do to fix us” and “we need to figure out…” phrases rained down upon the employees.

Joel felt especially discouraged as he went back to his office and stared at the blank computer screen. He had no motivation to work, and he doubted that anyone else was feeling the same way.

“You got a package,” Reggie from the mailroom announced as he walked in and placed the box down on Joel’s desk with a wave of his hand as if he were delivering a present. Joel frowned.

“I’m not expecting anything.” He began opening the box as Reggie shrugged.

“Got your name on it.”

The flaps of the box flipped open to reveal a bunch of blank greeting cards. Joel frowned. “What am I supposed to do with this? I don’t need blank cards.”

Reggie sighed. “Maybe Santa is outsourcing some of his work. The way this office is heading from what I heard; a lot of people could use some side income soon,” he whistled as he walked out of the door, but said something else that Joel just barely caught. “Or maybe just a reason to work harder.

”Joel stared at the box some more. He had plenty of work that needed to be done, but at the moment, all he could think about was that last phrase that Reggie had said. A reason to work harder. Spirits were definitely low. Maybe, he could change all of that.

The next morning, Joel got a knock on his office door. Reggie smirked as he leaned against the door frame. “Got several people out there talking about random cards they got on their desks with cute little messages on them.” Joel put a finger to his lips. Reggie whispered. “I didn’t know anything cute and little could be associated with you.”

Joel gave him a glare. “Just trying to change the mood around here.” Reggie nodded with a promise that he wouldn’t say anything.

For the next several weeks, cards began showing up sporadically on the desks of everyone in the office; some had jokes on them, some had poems, and some had heartwarming messages. Everyone looked forward to seeing who got cards each morning and would gather around to read them together.

Joel, of course, had to send himself a card every once in a while to keep suspicions low. Somehow, the mood changed in the office. It felt like Christmas every day, and Joel would order a new box of cards every couple of weeks to continue to write. Production went up, numbers started to soar, and there were no more awful meetings. The cards were doing their job and the only one who knew the source of them was Reggie.

A few months passed by, and Joel was in his office trying to focus on work when Reggie came in with another box. Joel frowned. “I haven’t ordered a new box of cards yet?”

Reggie shrugged. “Got your name on it.”

Joel opened the box and stared at the cards inside. They looked different than usual. He picked one up. It already had writing in it. Congratulations. Joel picked up another card. The same word was written on it. One after another, the cards all contained the word Congratulations on the inside. Reggie laughed as he shrugged when Joel looked at him. Suddenly, loud applause echoed from outside of the office. When Joel peeked out, everyone was out there and looking at him. They were clapping for him.

“What is this?” Joel said confused.

“This? This is your promotion,” Joel’s boss said. “We couldn’t think of a better way to tell the man who cared enough to change things around here.”

Joel was shocked. How could he have never guessed that some small greetings card could mean so much and change so much. Maybe it wasn’t the card. Maybe it was the care behind it. After all, change only comes from those who care to make it happen.

GAS TANKS AND MIRACLES

I was broke. Not like, a regular college student… I was flat broke. Being without work for two months, having to pay for extra schoolbooks, having to move into a new house, buy stuff for that house, maintain my car and gas money for driving around looking for jobs had its toll on me. I thankfully had a small check coming from my last job to give me one last fighting breath while I looked for some sort of work. I was discouraged, and not sure what I was going to do. I filled up my tank of gas three days prior knowing I had to make it last until I got that check in the bank and knew it was mine. Well, the day before I was supposed to get the check, a group from my church decided to go to a ski resort a couple of hours away to go watch fireworks. I was getting a little worried about gas holding up, but I wanted–no–I needed to go on the trip. All of the discouraging things going on were taking its toll mentally. But by the time I got to Scott’s house to meet everyone, my tank was close to empty. So I sit there thinking:

a) I could ask someone for money. but the pride in me wasn’t letting that happen.

b) I could squeeze a ride with someone else, and I do mean squeeze. There were already only a couple of cars going and more than enough squeezed in them.

c) I could see if I could make it to the place with the little gas that I had to last through until tomorrow.

I could have chosen option A, and probably should have, but no one knew I was there yet. I decided that I should just go home and forget about the fireworks. Man, God, I was really looking forward to going. I turned the ignition and looked at my gas gauge. 3/4 of a tank? What? Hold up. Maybe something was messed up with the gauge. But it wasn’t. The gas had gone from less than 1/4 of a tank to 3/4 of a tank. I bit my lip as I stared at the dashboard. Fine. I was going to take a risk.

I drove up to the fireworks and enjoyed one of the best nights I had experienced in a long time. On the way back to my car, I was thinking that I would now have to pray that the once again quarter tank of gas last until I received that check. But before I got there, one of the girls that had come with our group stopped me. She handed me a ten-dollar bill.

“You dropped this?” She asked.

I shook my head. “No, I didn’t. I didn’t have any cash on me.”

She shrugged and handed it to me anyway, “I saw it fall out of your pocket. Here.” She waved bye and left me standing there scratching my head. I got into my car and sighed. At least, I could make it to a gas station and put in a little more gas into the car. Then I turned the key in the ignition. I swear to you that I could explain it. The gas gauge didn’t read ¼ tank. It showed full.

I almost cried, and even still, I drove to the nearest gas station only to find out that it was really full! It may not sound like much, but the miracle of the gas tank still proved to me that there were miracles; that maybe I was being watched over. I didn’t feel worthy of it, but I guess that’s the beauty of a miracle; we never are, but they’re still there.

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