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Day Nine Hundred Eighty Four #DiaryoftheEndoftheWorld

I almost asked Mary about her daughter Retha, but a closer view of Mary’s face told all. Lines of sadness were stamped into her countenance.

She hugged me, then embraced her son who held my gaze, an apology in his eyes for not preparing me.

The Purser directed us to a spot to rest. Instead Elijah and I found their special place and spent the night in intercession.

The area atop the plateau could easily accommodate a larger group, as we learned when the Purser showed us around.

And so it had at one time.

Now their numbers are dwindling through disease and untreated injuries.

More than ever we felt a renewed impetus to bring them to the hiding place.

About rwoz2

Poet, historian, writer for stage and screen. Responder to Jesus (Romans 5:8)

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