I can see the lights of the building from a mile away. All by its lonesome on the edge of a town too big to be called a village. This is the last stop on my regular route, but this being a holiday, I am only halfway through tonight's run. I drop from the sky near the main entrance and buzz for the front desk. A moment later the door buzzes back, and I can open it and get inside.
The waiting room looks the same as always. Off white tiles, uncomfortable chairs, and magazines from two years ago. I walk up to the plexiglass and wave for the detective on duty.
"Good evening Marigold. I've got the weekly delivery for you." I pull the large parcel of miscellaneous smaller packages all wrapped up, and place it in the delivery tray below the glass. "Please tell me Lockjaw isn't 'on break' again. I'd like to be able to get home sometime tonight."
"I'm sure for your smiling face I can convince him to come back early." Marigold says as she waits for my parcel and papers to pass through the safety scanner, before pulling them to her side of the glass. "Take a seat, I'll rustle him up and get these signed for you."
"Thanks. It's looking like another long night." I watch as she goes into the back, and then grab a free spot on the wall. It's more comfortable than the plastic chairs.
Hearthswarming isn't just a long night, it's the longest night; and a county jail is not the best place to spend it. If the bits weren't so good, I'd be home near the fire same as all the other sane ponies. Waiting for the deputy to sign for the deliveries, I'm leaned against the wall, head down, eyes closed, with my battered hat over my face. Too many bad memories of places like this.
It's a cold night outside. Enough to make one believe in the old Windigo stories told to foals. I debate and decide that if I can't be home, at least I can rest my wings a moment in the warmth before heading back out.
A buzz rom outside distracts me as an old stallion comes in carrying a weathered book. Judging by his frock and demeanor, I expect it to be a bible. I see it a lot delivering to hospitals, nursing homes, and county. Coming on the night of Hearthswarming however? This one must be a true believer. Here to minister to a captive audience. I smile at the ground and resume my ruminations.
"It's not too late is it?" a voice asks. I look up to see the stallion looking at me worriedly.
"Huh?" I'm not trying to be mean, I just have no idea what he means.
"I'm here to visit an inmate," he replies. "Is it too late for visitors?" He walks over to the plastic and gestures to the empty booth where a detective would normally be sitting to greet any visitors to the jail.
"Oh! Yeah, just press the red button there. It'll call the back office and they'll send someone up to help you out."
"Thank you so much." He presses the button as I go back to my own thoughts. The office says they'll send someone up shortly and in less than a minute, a detective is there. It would be nice if their officers would be as quick to sign for my deliveries.
"Good evening madam. I'm here to visit an earth pony named Meadowlark. Is that allowed?"
"Are you expected?" the detective replies as she pulls a notepad off its clipboard.
"Expected? What do you mean?"
"There's a list of pre-approved ponies who are allowed to visit inmates. If you are not on the list, than you need to schedule a visit." the detective explains.
"Oh. I am the minister for Our Lady of Magic. Meadow was once in my Sunday school class, and a regular church member for years. I just learned that her parents have disowned her and I didn't think she'd have anyone to visit for the holiday."
I look up at that. I catch the detectives eye, and it seems we share the same thoughts. "I'll go see if she'll take a visitor tonight," she says with a smile as she pushes the notepad away. "Have a seat over there, and I'll be right back."
"Thank you very much." the stallion replies. He sits across from me in the waiting room. For a minute we are alone again as she goes to the back.
As I stare at the tile, a bit of old memorized knowledge returns to me. "Pinkie. 5, 3." I say to the ground.
"Huh?"
I think I startled him. "In that book on your back. Pinkie. Chapter 5, verse 3."
He looks at me briefly before pulling the book around and quickly flipping through it. As he does, my name is called and I finally get my papers back from the deputy and signed by the correct ponies this time. The stallion is also called to provide identification before his visit. Looks like Meadowlark is accepting visitors tonight.
I tap him with a wing as we pass. Looks like I startled him again. "This is a kind thing you're doing preacher." Yes, I call them preachers. I blame my cousins and upbringing. "Have a good Hearthswarming."
"Oh." he stutters a bit. "Happy Hearthswarming to you too. I looked up that passage. I hadn't thought about that particular chapter, but the parable is certainly relevant here. Thank you. Are you a believer?"
"No sir." I tip my old stetson to him. A Hearthswarming gift itself passed down the family from a grandmother too many greats back. "I've seen too much and know too little. But I like to think I repent for my transgressions in my own way as I go.
He freezes a moment, taken aback, before smiling and holding up a hoof. "That's all any of us can do in this life." he replies. "Sun bless you daughter, and happy Hearthswarming."
I bump my hoof to his. "Happy Hearthswarming, preacher."