What if there was another girlTo whom the angel did not come,One who said, every day, “I am ready.”She woke, she dressed, she went to the wellto draw water.Still no flutter of wingsNo gifts delivered in the dark.No sudden lights.Just ordinary grit and labor.She knew the stories—Samuel, Miriam.The power of, “Here I am.”She wiped sleep from her eyes.Readied the day. Waited.
The Century's work relies primarily on subscriptions and donations. Thank you for supporting nonprofit journalism.
Support us by buying books: