Hecate: The Gift

Hecate: The Gift

Once, when I was doing chemotherapy, had just been abandoned by my lover of twenty-some years, and was about as sorry for myself as it was possible to feel, I was sitting in a restaurant trying to make myself eat something. I called for the check and the waitress said, “A man saw you sitting in the window, came in and paid for your meal. He left this.” It was a tiny, dirty scrap of paper, torn off of an envelope and it said: “Believe.” I still have that scrap of paper and it keeps me going sometimes when I feel like giving up.

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