She needs some space of her own—a quiet place to think and write and retreat, he said, my friend Jay, a man who believes in the possibility of things.

And so we will build it.

Nevermind that he didn’t really know her, this young girl he had recently met for the very first time.

Nevermind that his calendar was already full, what with a store to run and things to make and a hundred celebrations to tend to (most happening at his house).

Nevermind that it was Christmas.

And so at the end of a long, full December 23rd—’round about midnight, I hear—Jay Coles went to his garage and commenced to measuring and cutting and hammering the pieces that would become her hideaway, this child named Grace. Through the night he worked, and when the sun rose on the morning of Christmas Eve, he smiled, knowing it would be ready.

They met at her house mid-morning. And by early afternoon, this group of friends, a collective of extraordinarily good souls, had done it. They had built the House of Grace.

Adrian, Tim, Chuck, Grace, Jay, Tim, Bruce

30 Days of Joy