The Dining Hall

The Dining Hall has become one of our favorite places for date night. It’s alive. There’s always a story unfolding and a funny moment that makes you look up and think, Well, I didn’t see that coming.

This is my first attempt at writing a children’s story. I worked on it most of the summer and considered publishing it, but I haven’t taken that step (yet). For now, I want to introduce you to a story that is fictional… and also a little bit true.

It’s based on moments and people who have lingered with me—some just as I remember them, some as they were lived in a place where reality can shift. Either way, the love is real. Some of the ones who inspired these pages have since made their way to The Great Dining Hall in Heaven… so I decided it was time.

A Lot of Bark, No Bite

The road to Aunt Tandy’s twisted and dragged like an untied shoelace.

Sarah stared out the window, counting bumps.

At last, they reached the gravel driveway.

Aunt Tandy’s house looked smaller than Sarah remembered. Even the big old tree—the one she used to swing under—didn’t seem so big anymore.

Inside, the phone was already ringing.

Sarah watched as Aunt Tandy answered.

“But I have my niece for the next few days,” she said. “I promised to make sure she’s okay while her mom’s away.”

Aunt Tandy listened quietly, then said, “I’ll be there soon.”

When she hung up, she didn’t have to say anything.

Sarah already knew where they were going. Her stomach tightened as she remembered.

The strange smells.

The wheelchairs. The walkers.

But mostly—

The questions.

“Have you seen my big dog?”

“Does anyone know where my room is?”

“What time is lunch?”

Sarah understood the residents needed Aunt Tandy, too.

“It’s okay,” she said quietly. “I can help you.”

Aunt Tandy gave her a tired smile.

“We won’t be long,” Aunt Tandy promised.

Sarah nodded. The building looked like a fancy hotel, maybe like the one where Mom was staying.

Aunt Tandy swiped her badge. With a loud click, the doors opened. Just like that, they were inside. With another loud click, the doors locked behind them.

As Sarah and Aunt Tandy walked down the hall, the noise grew louder.

In the dining hall, Mr. Cecil—wearing his brim—paced the floor. “My dog would eat all this food in one bite.”

Ms. Linda rolled her eyes and mumbled, “You and that dog!” Then she went back to fussing about her cup. “You know, it’s tacky to give me a smaller cup than everyone else!” she shouted

Ms. Helen sat in her wheelchair, arms crossed. “I can’t hear you! Did you say your dog ate all the dessert?” she shouted.

Mrs. Mary Lou sat quietly with her cat curled in her lap. She laughed, “That dog is always doing something naughty. I hope they have more dessert for Helen.”

Mr. Wallace frowned at Aunt Tandy.

In between sneezes, he asked, “When can I speak to the manager—hachoo—of this place about a cat—hachoo—at the table in the dining haaaall?”

Ms. Helen with a scowl added, “If you’re going to file a complaint about the cat, make sure you tell them that dog ate all the dessert!”

Aunt Tandy moved like she was putting out little fires—one after another—trying to stop a forest fire.

Sarah noticed Aunt Tandy breathing heavily. She asked, “How can I help, Aunt Tandy?”

“Just talk to them,” Aunt Tandy said, already rushing toward the next commotion.

Sarah swallowed hard. “I can go get their plates,” she offered, though her voice trembled just a bit.

But the swinging doors flapped shut behind Aunt Tandy.

Sarah looked around the room, unsure where to start.

Ms. Mary Lou waved her hands, her fiery red nails catching the light, and beckoned Sarah over.

“Her name is Katherine the Great,” Ms. Mary Lou said with a grin, stroking the cat in her lap. “But I call her Kitty.”

She shot a glare at Mr. Wallace. “She eats dinner here every night.”

Mr. Cecil shuffled over in his sunglasses and wide-brimmed hat. He tilted his head and grinned.

“You should meet my dog, Ranger,” he said. “He weighs 160 pounds. Loves pop-tarts.”

Before Sarah could answer, Ms. Linda snapped, “Cecil! Your dog doesn’t weigh 160 pounds!”

Cecil adjusted his sunglasses and huffed, “You don’t know. You haven’t even seen my dog.”

“That’s right,” Mr. Wallace grumbled, scratching his nose. “Nobody’s ever seen that dog.”

Ms. Helen looked up from her plate, squinting. “I can’t hear you! Did you say he ate 160 pounds of dessert?”

The swinging doors flew open wide!

Aunt Tandy suddenly reappeared, pushing a squeaky cart with plates stacked like towers.

The dining hall exploded in claps and cheers.

Forks clinked.

Cups sipped.

A contented hum filled the room.

Then Ms. Linda complained, tapping her cup on the table impatiently.

“Can I get some more tea? This little cup doesn’t hold more than a sip!”

Without a word, Aunt Tandy disappeared behind the swinging doors again.

Quiet little Miss Millie leaned toward Sarah and whispered,

“I’m just waiting. I don’t know if this is my plate.”

“It’s yours, Miss Millie,” Sarah said softly.

“My dog will eat it,” Mr. Cecil chimed in with a laugh.

Soon the residents began drifting toward the courtyard. There was ice cream for dessert—sandwiches wrapped in shiny white paper.

Mr. Cecil wandered the dining hall, scanning for leftover potato chips and watching Miss Millie like a hawk.

“You want me to carry you outside, Millie?” he offered.

Miss Millie shook her head.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Aunt Tandy’s voice rang out just in time.

“Mr. Cecil, can you take my niece to the courtyard for ice cream?”

“Well, sure I can!” he said, grinning. “One hundred and ten percent sure!”

But something was missing.

Mr. Cecil had forgotten his wide-brimmed hat and sunglasses.

Sarah slipped back into the dining room to grab them — and to help Aunt Tandy.

“Thank you, Sarah, for all your help,” Aunt Tandy said, letting out a long breath. “I can get the rest of this.”

As Sarah turned to leave, she heard Aunt Tandy call after her.

“Don’t forget to grab a dessert — you’ve earned it!”

Sarah’s face lit up as she beamed from ear to ear.

The courtyard was buzzing when Sarah arrived.

Everyone seemed to need something at once.

“I’ve waited long enough for dessert,” Ms. Helen grumbled.

“Someone help me open this thing!”

Ms. Linda rolled her eyes.

“At least you didn’t get a miniature one!”

“You’ve got to speak to upper management,” Mr. Wallace declared.

“It’s the only way to get anything done around here!”

“Can I go to my room now?” Miss Millie asked softly.

“I just want to make sure… it’s okay.”

Sarah handed Mr. Cecil his sunglasses and hat.

“Thank you, young lady!” he sang.

Then Sarah walked with Miss Millie to her room.

“It’s okay. I promise,” she said gently. “Just use your key. It’ll open the door.”

When Sarah returned to the courtyard, she peeled open her melting ice cream sandwich and finally sat down.

But before the first bite reached her lips, a new commotion stirred the air.

“Kitty? Come here, Kitty!” called Ms. Mary Lou, her voice shaky with worry.

“She’s not over here!” shouted Ms. Linda, peeking under a patio chair.

“I am not sharing my dessert with Kitty,” grumbled Ms. Helen, holding her snack a little closer.

“I’ve filed complaints about missing items!” announced Mr. Wallace. “Good luck finding anything!”

Mr. Cecil strolled up beside Sarah and said,

“Now Ranger—he’s so big, you couldn’t lose him if you tried.”

“Let’s all help Ms. Mary Lou find Kitty!” Sarah said with a smile.

The residents spread out across the courtyard, searching high and low — under benches, behind bushes, even near the birdbath — all looking for their furry friend.

“I think I see her!” Ms. Linda shouted.

“Oh—never mind. It’s just a blanket.”

“That’s my dog’s blanket,” chuckled Mr. Cecil. “Silly old Ranger!”

“There appears to be something over here,” announced Mr. Wallace, pointing behind a flower pot.

Ms. Mary Lou hurried over, peered down, and cried, “That is not Kitty! Those are Mr. Cecil’s shoes!”

“Which ones? I’ve got twenty pairs!” laughed Mr. Cecil, wiggling his toes.

Just then, Aunt Tandy stepped into the courtyard, holding a trash bag.

“What in the world is going on out here?” she asked Sarah.

“Miss Kitty’s gone missing!” Sarah explained.

Aunt Tandy chuckled.

“She can’t have gone far. While you’re looking, can you grab the sandwich wrappers too?”

Sarah grinned and began picking up the white wrappers scattered around the courtyard.

Near Ms. Helen’s chair, she spotted one on the ground. As she bent to grab it, she froze. There, tucked underneath the chair, was a small, fuzzy fur ball.

“Ms. Mary Lou… I think I found Kitty!” Sarah called, pointing under the chair.

“I said I didn’t want to share!” growled Ms. Helen. “Come get this cat!”

“Ha! You’re lucky,” laughed Mr. Cecil. “Ranger would’ve swallowed that whole sandwich in one bite!”

Ms. Mary Lou scooped Kitty up in a big, gentle hug.

“Thank you, everyone, for helping me find her!” she said, beaming.

“Next time, we’ll look for Ranger first!” laughed Mr. Cecil as he wandered off — leaving his shoes and blanket behind in the courtyard.

Mr. Wallace leaned toward Sarah and whispered,

“You know… none of us have ever seen Ranger.”

“Here, Ranger! Come on, boy!” Mr. Cecil called into the hallway.

Sarah quietly gathered Mr. Cecil’s shoes and Ranger’s blanket.

She pushed open the doors to follow him inside… and then she noticed something on the floor

— muddy paw prints trailing down the hall.

Sarah smiled to herself and whispered,

“Maybe Ranger keeps finding his way… just like they all do.”