gentle-1

SOME GENTLE POWER

The old priest smiled as Tom ambled slowly beside him towards the door, this time making no attempt to slow his path towards the street. "Go with the Lord, my son, and remember me in your prayers!" He held his hand out, and Tom gripped it, feeling no more than an unusual strength for one so elderly.

Thanks for the extra five minutes, Father." said Tom as he passed from the gloom of the porch out into the bright sunlight of the City street, and the roar of the traffic which was never far away. He wandered, at first slowly and then at a brisker pace down towards his target, a modern thirteen story block which loomed up alongside much older buildings in an uneasy harmony. Up into the lift lobby, then seven stories up, along a corridor and into his office. He sat at his desk, gazed at his computer screen and idly wondered if he should start the new project, or tidy up the old job which was on the screen. As his firms' senior designer, he was supposed to give a good example, both in terms of work output and loyalty, but all Tom felt like doing was going back out and finding the old priest again for another chat; but finally bowed to the inevitable and called up the file to start the final drawing for the business park which had been his main job for five weeks. He felt rather than saw his secretary pass him by as she walked towards the corner desk, but then she seemed to twist her heel in the carpet and fall towards the side table which held the coffee percolator. The inevitable happened; she flung her arm out, the coffee jug swung round and dumped the entire contents over her hand and arm; drawing an anguished scream from her lips as the freshly made liquid splashed all down her bare arm. Tom leapt up from his seat and bent over her, already cringing inside at the thought of the massive scald which his happy helper, as he had christened her, would be suffering. "Lord, Mary, hold on and I'll get help," he said as he gripped her arm. Mary fought back her tears and pain as she nodded in agreement.

"I'll try, but hurry, please hurry Tom!"

He called out into the corridor and staff came running from all sides, to assist, but then stopped and stood in silence as Mary came towards him with her hand outstretched. Instead of the angry red of the scalding coffee, her hand and arm was smooth and white; unmarked by any outside force. Her young face was staring at him as she spoke slowly,"The pain has stopped, Tom. There is nothing wrong with my hand, but there should be! It was sore, the pain was just starting and then it stopped; just like that! It stopped just as you held my arm, Tom."