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Genuine People

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                                                           Genuine People

          I once heard that you only have five “real” friends in a lifetime, I believe that. I also believe the same to be true, that I will only come across five genuinely good people in my lifetime. I mean without a bad bone in their body good, never wanting anything in return good, Mother Theresa good. I know now that Trudy McAvoy is defiantly, without a doubt, one of those five people.

          “Hello this is Trudy, how can I help you on this beautiful day?” Trudy answered, in a vaguely familiar and comforting tone.

           I couldn’t speak for a second, which seemed like an eternity, as heartfelt thoughts came over me.  I was with my grandmother before she passed. The air pleasantly filled with sugar and coconut cookies in the oven. “How can I help you on this beautiful day, Amber?” My grandmother asked, in a very familiar and comforting tone.

           “Hi!” I excitedly replied, bringing myself back from a memory of loving emotions. “I am calling about your apartment for rent, is it still available?”

          Trudy began talking almost non-stop. It was not the irritating talk though. Everything that came from her pleasant voice was intriguing to my ears. We talked about the Apartment for rent at first, then about my present and horrific living situation. She then started to tell me about her husband Randy. She started by telling me how handsome he was and how he does all the floors and cabinets and carpentry in their properties. She does all the decorating and the “hard to do tasks,” she said with a childlike giggle.

            As our conversation progressed, I began to feel more familiar and comfortable speaking with this delightful woman. When she talks it is not at you but with you, always leaving a thought in the most positive manner. I felt right at home talking with her, as if we were family. Honestly, except for my Grandmother, I never got along as well with my own family.

           After a good 45 minutes of refreshing conversation, we agreed to meet the next day at the apartment. I remember, as I hung up the phone, a waterfall feeling of gratefulness. Could this be the answer to my last four months of panic and knuckle cracking suffering? I started to pray.

          It was a rainy and cold day in Forks, WA. I could smell snow in the air and see my breath inside my house. I was getting ready to meet Trudy at the apartment. I was very excited and somewhat a little scared. I hoped this was the break I needed to have a nice place to live and perhaps a new friend.

         I arrived at a quarter to two to find a very well kept and appealing apartment building.  The building took up only about half of the block. It had what looked like to be eight apartments. There was an upstairs and a downstairs, each with four apartments. It had recently been painted an olive green with white trim, in very good taste. The back yard was huge, even bigger than the building. It was outlined with an assortment of different trees and bushes. The yard itself had a very nice looking lawn and smelled of fresh cut grass. A gravel area with about eight parking spaces filled the front. The rain had stopped and I couldn’t have been happier. I sat down on one of the small porches and waited.

        “Well hello Amber, I hope you have not been waiting long.” Said Trudy. She had just pulled up and was getting out of her vehicle. As she walked the few feet to where I was sitting, I noticed how cute she was, like a toy doll. She was under 5 feet, very petite, brownish hair to her shoulders, wearing blue jeans and a pullover sweatshirt. She had the sweetest smile that matched her comforting voice. She was right on time and I was getting more excited by the minute.

       “No I just got here, you have a really nice building,” I said extending my hand to meet hers.

       “Thank you, I am Trudy and I am so glad to meet you,” she said in an enthusiastic voice. “Let’s go inside shall we.” As she put the key in the # 2 apartment downstairs. “Now I want to tell you the woman that is living here now is a hoarder, so the place is probably a mess. Please don’t be discouraged I will have it cleaned up like a new shinny penny!” She exclaimed, as if she couldn’t wait to start cleaning.

           The apartment door opened and you could defiantly see the hard work and attention to detail that went into this gorgeous apartment. The air was clean and refreshing like something new. The walls were painted an off white at the bottom and a soft cinnamon on top. The carpet was a dark blue and you could tell of good quality. It was a decent sized apartment and was decorated with gorgeous furniture. Under the large picture window was a light cinnamon colored, leather love seat. Across from the love seat was a carved Cherrywood armoire, with two matching tables on either side of the room. If only the hoarder would leave the furniture behind, I thought to myself.

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