Christine sat by the firelight, her Bible open, her steadfast prayers continuing.  She thought only of her daughter, granddaughter, and son-in-law.  She had heard of the deaths and a few peoples’ names.  With every report she got, from a friend who came to her house for that very purpose, she prayed silently it was not her family.  The names were not, and for that, she was thankful.  She felt heartsick for the ones that had been lost, and their families, and she included them in her prayers.

     Adam almost crawled through the clinic door, and Dessie ran to him.  He fell into her open arms from exhaustion, his body drained from walking from the train station, and worry.  He closed his eyes, relaxing in her embrace, so thankful she was still a...

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