The Center

She knew she should really finish fixing that broken board. It really wouldn’t take much, but Kati kept finding excuses to justify the delay. She was tackling so much, and all of it felt too important to give up just so she could have energy to fix that stupid board.

Lately, it was more than the feeling of being busy. It was getting harder to find the motivation. Yes, it was important work, but, after being yelled at day after day for every little mistake she made, it felt more like a burden than a purpose. The worst part was that there was absolutely no one to talk to about the pain. Afterall, the whole town looked to the community center for help. Where could she seek sanctuary from the sanctuary? Her boss was the director, and everyone loved him. Kati worked closer with Joe than anyone else did, giving her the unique experience of receiving more constructive criticism than anyone else did. To be honest, most of the time, it felt like pure, unadulterated criticism. Most days, Kati knew that it was important to provide for and strengthen the community. Some days, however, it just felt like it all came at the cost of her own happiness.

It was getting harder and harder to act like nothing was wrong, but Kati knew she hid it well. She smiled readily and she smiled often. Everyone laughed with or at her, and Kati learned long ago not to let others see her cry. She may have felt like screaming and cursing, but, no matter how much it killed her inside, she refused to be the reason anyone began to think negatively about the center. It somehow made more sense to suffer in silence. No matter what was happening today, the center was a haven to her as a child, and she wouldn’t turn her back on it.

With how busy life felt at work, church, and home, the only place to unburden herself was at the top of the hill. How ironic it was to feel more present on an empty hill than in a crowded room.

Kati had not seen the view from the hill in weeks. There seemed to always be a reason to sleep a little more or tackle some task instead. No excuse came this morning, and Kati threw on her winter coat before she could talk herself out of her destination.

She felt like she made the right choice, even if she would regret it later. The world was quiet up here.

“I love watching them too.” Kati startled at the baritone voice. Her first instinct was fear, but a quick turn around revealed her father. “Sorry kiddo. Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“You didn’t,” she retorted. Her father’s knowing smirk caused her to roll her eyes. “How did you find me up here anyways, old man?”

“I will have you know, this old man walks here every morning. I am surprised to see you here though, but that doesn’t mean I am unhappy to find you here. What brings you here?”

Kati hesitated. Growing up, she blamed her father for many things, including her need to make a second home with the center. In recent years, there was more of a peace between them, but it did not necessarily follow that there was a trust.

“I just felt like going for a walk today,” Kati finally supplied.

“Indeed. Well, it is a great place to walk. I see that as a bonus of coming here each morning. I really come here to observe them.” Curious to discover the presence of even more people in her spot, Kati followed her father’s gaze. She saw no one and turned around, confusion evident on her face. Her father chuckled and gestured to the treeline. “You have to look real close, but they’re there. It will be their resting time soon, but they have this special routine and I never grow tired of watching it. Come, I’ll show you.”

Her father left her side to move in the direction of the treeline. Kati resignedly followed his movements. The sun was peeking over the treeline, but the place where her father’s gaze rested still held darkness.

“Dad, I really don’t see anything but trees and snow.”

“Well, these owls are white, so I guess they are blending in a bit too well for you. Just give them a moment. You’ll see. They always do this right before sunrise. Well, at least they’ve been doing it as long as I have known them, but I don’t suspect they’ll let me down today.” Of all the things she could anticipate this morning, looking at owls with her father was not one of them.

At first, Kati felt the pointlessness of watching nature be nature. Perhaps, she should have just worked on the budget for the holiday gift bags this morning. Now, here she was, unable to rudely dismiss her father and return to her work. She sighed aloud without realizing she had done so.

“You feeling alright, Coco?” She balked at the use of her childhood nickname. They called her that because she loved chocolate and she could never understand why they took off the letter ‘a’ from ‘cocoa,’ just as they took off the letter ‘e’ from the name ‘Katie,’ leaving all her classmates to mispronounce her name when it was, in fact, a very simple one. Despite the lifetime of confusion at the spelling of her names, she felt a tightness in her throat at the appellation. No one had called her by that nickname in years. She was bombarded by the memories of how carefree she felt back then and by how much she missed hearing her father call her that.

“I…sometimes, I just feel…like I just can’t. I mean I can. I can do the work and whatever it is I am asked to do, but I feel tired. Well, I feel sad. I guess, I feel…” Kati swallowed the lump in her throat. It was very representative of how she seemed to just swallow the pain in her life. “I just don’t know if I can be the director’s assistant or whatever I am. I feel both inadequate and really angry, dad. Why am I asked to do so much when no one else really helps out? Why do I get yelled at by Joe constantly when I am trying to help? I don’t want to quit, but I don’t think I can live like this. What’s the point?”

In all the time Kati was speaking, her father never turned to look at her. He focused on the treeline. Kati started to sense it was a mistake to mention anything and began feeling angry that he was ignoring her pain. Why did she bother telling him anything? Just as she moved to turn away from her father, his stupid owls, and the hill, he spoke.

“Its body is quite small, you know? But, its wings are so wide that it allows it to glide through the air, barely making a sound. Look! Look! There it is!” Her father nodded to the treeline, and Kati, overcome by curiosity and momentarily forgetting she was upset, spotted the white barn owl in flight.

Her father continued quietly as if talking to himself, “Yet, anyone who sees it has little choice but to give it attention and acknowledge its elegance. Its always at the center of attention and doesn’t know it. Most mornings, I get to see a few of them take flight. Sometimes, just this one. I always know it's her because she moves even more gracefully than the rest.”

“It is quite beautiful,” Kati admitted. “Thanks for showing me this, dad.”

“Sure, kiddo.” He paused and she felt the weight of his stare leave the owl and fall on her. Could he somehow see how lost she felt? “You know, Kati, that’s the kind of impact you have.”

“Huh?” He chuckled as confusion returned to her countenance.

“You are not nearly as observant as you think, Kati. You may think yourself too small and insignificant, but your influence is pretty wide. You know I work part-time as the custodian at the highschool, right?” She nodded as she did indeed know of her father’s first stable job in life, albeit a part-time one, but they never spoke about it.

“Yes, I think you have been there for a few months now, right?” He nodded in return.

“I hear the kids talk. About the videos they post and the social mediation thing.”

“Social media, dad.”

“Right, that’s what I said. Anyway, they are a little too vulgar and energetic for my understanding most times, but they’re good kids. I just like seeing young people be young and be happy. Believe it or not, you make them happy. Last week, they were all smiling and rewatching videos of the talent show you all did at the center. That was great! I loved it.” Kati’s shock was too much. She had not considered what anyone outside of Joe thought about her work. She just kept feeling the burden of her leader’s criticalness.

“I am happy to hear that. I enjoyed the talent show too. It was a lot of fun to plan and see.”

“Everyone sees you. We all know you are doing a lot. We pray for you. We...I am very proud of you.” She wasn’t sure when she began to cry, but her cheeks were wet, and she could not find the words to respond.

“And, you know Joe wouldn’t waste his voice on you if you did not have the potential to do great things. That's what leaders do. They recognize and nurture. I think discipline is never wonderful when it's happening, but it builds character. You are the most disciplined person I know. I’m sorry, I didn’t do much of a job at helping you myself. I did recognize–but I still don’t have the slightest clue about how to nurture–the greatness that's in you, kiddo. Joe does. I trust that. I’m sorry it's so hard on you sometimes though. Don’t be sad. Your strength is really inspiring. I, of all people, know how hard your life has been, but you keep on smiling. You keep capturing our attention like that bird there. And you've got a funny heart-shaped face like her too.”

Kati rolled her eyes and wrapped her arms around her father. “Thank you, dad.”

“And, I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“You wouldn’t think that you have to do everything if I didn’t leave you to do everything growing up. I have many regrets, but I wish more than anything I could give you back your childhood. You grew up too fast. It wasn’t your fault. I was glad the center was there for you. You’re giving back to others, and that's a wonderful thing.”

More topics that were usually left untouched. Kati did not want to cry, but her father seemed intent on making her.

“You just keep being you, kiddo. But, don’t think you have to do it on your own. You are not alone.” He pulled her even closer with one arm as he stepped away from her full embrace so they could watch the sunrise.

The world did not suddenly make sense; Joe still seemed unnecessarily tough and her names were still spelled weird, but Kati did feel better. Hearing that the students enjoyed the center’s activities and being here with her dad made her happy. Somehow, things felt okay. Perhaps, she would fix that board afterall. Well, eventually.