She Turns a Room Every Time

Hostility and anger was zooming around the room when she arrived. She sat in a corner, writing poetry, creating a pretty world of her own. The hostess came by to take a peek, and ended up with a smile. She patted her shoulder and said “I am so glad that you came!” The angriest fellow in the room with a permanent frown sat next. He wanted to see what she was writing. It touched him, and he softened. He began to cry; letting out tears he had held for most of his life. She ended up patting him on the shoulder. Her husband watched without comment. She was an empath bringing people joy in quiet ways. She had an understanding of psychology that consternated others. By the time dinner was served, three wanted to sit next to her. He watched them change name tags around, each trying to get a seat. His wife was a compassionate listener. She could turn a room. He had seen this for most of his life; they were in their sixties. It had been happening since she was sixteen when they met. He winked at her from the other side of the long table. There was laughter, there was hope, there was joy. She had them frolicking like faeries by midnight. And without alcoholic beverage or a witch’s spell too!