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"Did you bring the spare markers?" Tasha asked, nudging open the supply closet with her shoulder. The hallway was quiet except for the soft tap of chairs being rearranged down the corridor.
"I did," Owen said, holding up a pack. "And I labeled the bins so people can find what they need without asking."
Tasha set a small plant on the table nearest the window. "Something green makes the room feel grounded," she said. "It invites people to pause."
Owen scanned the sign-in sheet. "We should rotate who greets at the door every twenty minutes," he suggested. "That way everyone gets a chance to circulate and answer deeper questions."
"I like that," Tasha replied. "I'll start, and when the timer beeps, we trade spots."
They practiced a few short introductions: names, roles, and one sentence that set a calm tone. "Keep it steady," Owen said. "People feel more comfortable when we move at a measured pace."
A volunteer stepped in with a small box of clips. "Do you want posters on both sides of the divider?"
"Place one near the corner," Tasha answered. "It's easy to miss that turn."
Owen unfolded a map of the building. "We'll guide anyone who needs a quieter space to the side room. It's well lit, and it's close to the exit if they need fresh air."
A soft chime rang from a phone. "That's our cue," Tasha said, tucking the timer into her pocket. "Let's do a quick walk-through."
They crossed the room, checking table edges, pens, and gentle signage with readable type. The door opened to a small stream of visitors, voices friendly and unhurried. Someone asked about seating, another pointed out a helpful note near the counter. The little plant by the window caught the afternoon light and made a quiet corner feel welcoming.
Owen met Tasha's eyes and nodded. "We're set," he said.
"Let's greet people where they are," Tasha replied. "One question at a time, with clear answers and patience."
And with that, the conversations began to weave across the room, each exchange steady, respectful, and focused on what mattered to the person standing there.
"I did," Owen said, holding up a pack. "And I labeled the bins so people can find what they need without asking."
Tasha set a small plant on the table nearest the window. "Something green makes the room feel grounded," she said. "It invites people to pause."
Owen scanned the sign-in sheet. "We should rotate who greets at the door every twenty minutes," he suggested. "That way everyone gets a chance to circulate and answer deeper questions."
"I like that," Tasha replied. "I'll start, and when the timer beeps, we trade spots."
They practiced a few short introductions: names, roles, and one sentence that set a calm tone. "Keep it steady," Owen said. "People feel more comfortable when we move at a measured pace."
A volunteer stepped in with a small box of clips. "Do you want posters on both sides of the divider?"
"Place one near the corner," Tasha answered. "It's easy to miss that turn."
Owen unfolded a map of the building. "We'll guide anyone who needs a quieter space to the side room. It's well lit, and it's close to the exit if they need fresh air."
A soft chime rang from a phone. "That's our cue," Tasha said, tucking the timer into her pocket. "Let's do a quick walk-through."
They crossed the room, checking table edges, pens, and gentle signage with readable type. The door opened to a small stream of visitors, voices friendly and unhurried. Someone asked about seating, another pointed out a helpful note near the counter. The little plant by the window caught the afternoon light and made a quiet corner feel welcoming.
Owen met Tasha's eyes and nodded. "We're set," he said.
"Let's greet people where they are," Tasha replied. "One question at a time, with clear answers and patience."
And with that, the conversations began to weave across the room, each exchange steady, respectful, and focused on what mattered to the person standing there.
