Pleasant Person

She walks into the church. "Hey, Trouble," a man calls. "Hey, Archie," she replies. "You been behaving?" he asks. "I always do." She knows this conversation by heart. She walks down the pews with her sister in her hand. "Hi, Mr. Johnny!" they call. He gives them both a fist bump. Then he shows them the sticker on his cane. "She has some new ones," she says, indicating her sister. "Maybe you can get some more." They walk to their seat, where her other siblings are already waiting. They draw a few things in their notebooks before service starts. They stand when they sing and they sit when they listen. After the sermon, she cleans up their pew. She says hi to a few more people before making her way to the back. She talks for a bit with an old lady across the street who wants to make them dinner. She nods and she smiles. A man comes up to her again. "Hi," he says again. "Hey, Archie," she replies again. "You know," he says, "you are a really pleasant person. You're always friendly and you never argue. You're just pleasant." She smiles and says, "Thank you, Archie." A pleasant person, she thinks. I like that.