She knocks on my office door, ready for what we both know may be a difficult session.
She hands me three small boxes of plump raspberries.
As the hour passes, the raspberries sit between us, and we take turn plopping a few in our mouths, intently listening to each other's words.
Something about the tangy-ness, something about the sweetness, something about the sharing turns the small space around us into a bubble of safety and truth.
She is going to be fine. Better than fine. She is going to be HER.
