“This is my grandfather and grandmother,” she said, pointing to a wedding photo. Her eyes were moist with tears. “This is them too.” I recognized them in the second photo; they looked similar to their appearance in the message they’d sent Abby. Full of life.

“These are my parents.” They looked to be about forty. They were seated, holding hands and smiling broadly.

She picked up a picture of a baby. “This…I think this is my brother. This must have been taken shortly before my parents moved to Papua New Guinea.” She looked at it a long time and placed it back on the mantel.

She picked up the next photo and smiled. “This is me.” She turned and showed me a picture of a grinning girl of about three sitting in a tree. “My parents must have sent this to them while our Grid interface was still working.”

“Well…”

We both turned around and looked at the gardener.

“I finished watering the plants. It looks like you have a bit to look over. How about if I let you do that while I tend the flowers out front?”

“That would be wonderful of you to let us stay,” Abby replied. “We won’t be too long.”

“No, take your time, young lady. These are special moments.”

He walked out the front door. Abby continued slowly around the living area, picking up photos and decorative items, studying them, looking at the paintings on the walls. I wandered into a study. It was walled with dark wood bookcases on three sides, with a wood desk and chair in the middle. I could have lived in that room.

I cocked my head and began scanning book titles. On the right-hand shelves stood volumes on science and technology. On the back shelves were titles on history, philosophy, and a variety of other subjects. The shelves on the left housed a large collection of Christian writings. Christ Is All. The Spiritual Man. My Utmost for His Highest. I pulled a volume off the shelf. You Give Me New Life: A 40-Day Journey in the Company of the Early Disciples. It contained selections from the writings of the early leaders of the Christian church. It was brief, scannable in less than ten minutes. I wasn’t familiar with any of the authors quoted, but I had become familiar with their primary theme, which startled me.

I walked to the doorway. “Abby, come look at this.”

She walked over, and I held up the book.

“Do you want to read it?” Her voice sounded hopeful.

“I just did. You won’t believe what it says.”

We walked to living room couch and sat down.

“Listen to this. These are excerpts from various early Christian writings, 100 CE to 250 CE.” I read samples from several authors.