The grass harp / El arpa de hierba (Photo credit: Sofía)

When a writer makes me feel welcome and acceptable and a little bit wonderful despite it all, I almost cry.

The best I can do to thank and honor that magnificent storyteller is to tell other people, read this book.

So here I am telling you, asking you, pleading with you to read “The Grass Harp” by Truman Capote. The book was first published in 1951, but can probably be found at just about any local library. If you’re lucky, you might find a copy at a used book store for $2 even. The book is worth buying even if you find it new.

Do you remember pressing your pencil onto Kress paper? Or climbing up into a tree house or building a creek fort for summer days? Maybe remember the pink fuzzy blooms of a mimosa tree and the dark red pomegranates spilling out black seeds strange and bittersweet like many human relationships.

The late Truman Capote, born Truman Streckfus Persons, helps me remember and get through. I wish he could have been my friend. Capote has died, but he left us his very heart in his books and in his characters like Dollyheart and Catherine and Riley and Judge Cool.

When I consider certain passages, my heart stirs with the precious recognition that I’m not alone, that someone went before and knows what it’s like to feel different. And don’t many of us feel different, somehow defective, at one time or another?

Here’s Judge Cool explaining Spirits to Dolly and when I got done reading, I hoped it meant I was one of the Spirits instead of just plain difficult or crazy. “Spirits are accepters of life,” Judge Cool tells Dolly. “They grant its differences–and consequently are always in trouble.”

Trouble yourself, if you can even call it that, to read this long-ago book by Capote, who took his stepfather’s surname after his mother married a second time. When Capote asks you, through the voice of orphan Collin, “When was it that first I heard of the grass harp?,” I’m betting you will want to know the answer.

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Monsooned Malabar (Photo credit: ritchielee)

Conversation hums all around. A barista moves briskly. Customers relax in a neighborhood blend of friends and flavors.

I’m at the recently-opened Lasaters Coffee & Tea (http://www.lasaterscoffee.com) in the Cleveland-Bradley County Public Library, Cleveland, Tennessee.

This shop shines. Think wood, black leather, low lighting. The aroma of coffee. See thick shiny cups fired in earth tones. Listen while tall thermal tumblers speak strawberry red and lime green, blazing blue and subtle silver.

Look up and see the French Press coffee contraption you know your daughter would love for Christmas. Think of her favorite color and say that one. Imagine your son warming his hands over a campfire after unpacking your exquisite gift of India Monsooned Malabar.

Consider your friend and yourself too. Ponder the small possibilities and sheer delights of caramel mocha; toasted marshmallow latte; gourmet hot chocolate; blended spice chai; custom fruit smoothies and iced white chocolate mocha. Or  maybe it’s black iced black tea or Rooibos with a roast beef and Provolone sandwich. Maybe the Southwest grilled chicken wrap or the turkey and Swiss rosemary bread panini.

A customer orders the turkey and Swiss, encouraging the baristo to include the buttery flavor when he grills the sandwich. With joy, that customer anticipates the melted marvel.

A man wearing Lasaters classic black slacks and shirt explains how refreshment and community often happen over a cup of coffee.  He turns to help another friend.  In shades of sunrise and sunset, shop lights glow.

Related articles

• Coffee Shops as Urban Social Hubs (theurbn.com)
• Happy Cup! French Pressed and Reviewed (secret-agent-josephine.com)
• Coffee Is The New Wine. Here’s How You Taste It (wnyc.org)
• Brew Coffee On-The-Go In A Travel Mug (psfk.com)