Sometimes a person wonders how something so little can make such a huge difference. For instance, a simple sincere smile given at the check out line at the supermarket might make the woman using the last of her paycheck to purchase soup at 4/$1 to feed her family of five hungry children get through the day a little easier. Or, how seeing a commercial on late night television for finishing a four year degree with evening classes, may be just what someone needs to be motivated to finish a long shelved dream. It seems like when a person is tuned in, really tuned in, at a particular moment, that is when an important dawning can happen. That is what happened to Amber on Tuesday.

Amber was 47 years old and felt like she was 67. Tuesdays were usually better days for her as she had had 1-2 days of recovery time from her secret. This Tuesday was not so great, though. Amber was a closet alcoholic and usually managed to drink herself to sleep on the weekends, and then use Sunday as a day to lay low and recoup her strength from the horrible hangovers. Amber managed to get through the week with only a few drinks at night, but the weekends were a different story. This past weekend, she had used her recovery day as another day to drown her sorrows. She was regretting that decision now as she was still reeling from the horrible sickness she had awakened with on Monday morning.

It seemed to Amber that she was doing this more often lately, that is, drinking longer and harder. What had used to be a seemingly harmless and somewhat pleasant pastime had evolved into something ugly and shameful. Why couldn’t she control herself, she wondered? It didn’t used to be a problem. Now she found herself waking up on the weekends, feeling awful, and using that as an excuse to start the day with something added to her coffee. Well, this Tuesday was a struggle for her to even try and make it through the day at work. Although she knew she looked like hell, she was sure that no one at work would ever guess her life at home was filled with empty bottles that were surreptitiously disposed of at night.

Taking a break from her desk, Amber walked across the hall to the building’s cafeteria. She was hoping that maybe another cup of their strong coffee would produce the desired effect of making her feel human again. Paying for the coffee, she returned to her desk and decided to go to the restroom to see if she really looked as bad as she felt. Standing in front of the mirror reaffirmed her suspicions. She truly looked like death warmed over. There were dark circles under her eyes and her skin was showing a red splotchy pattern that was difficult to cover with makeup. She knew her breath was atrocious and used the mouthwash in her purse to once again try to rinse away the reminder of the pain she was inflicting on herself.

Amber sighed and as she was turning away from the hated reflection her eyes noticed a pen lying on the counter. She reached for it and read the inscription: Women for Sobriety. She looked again at the promotional pen and wondered if she was seeing things. No, she was right. The pen also listed a phone number and had the logo 4C written on it. Looking back at the image of the tired woman in the mirror, Amber tuned completely in to that precise moment. She truly felt her feelings, the good and the bad the wretched and the hopeful. She knew what she would do. Amber would use that simple promotional pen to begin her new life. She felt a faint glimmer of excitement as she anticipated calling the number and seeing what awaited her. She was ready for a new life and this promotional pen was going to lead her there.