“You can’t know,” Elaine wailed. “You can’t know what it’s like to hear a board creak and not know what’s going on. Don’t talk about ‘the long run,’ because it’s all I can do to get through today. ‘The long run’ terrifies me because I’ll be old and gray but I’ll still be blind!”

She sobbed, rocking back and forth and accidentally knocking over the water pitcher. It smashed on the floor with a loud crash, which frightened Elaine all over again. She flinched, covering her head and shaking as the panic took root.

“It’s all right,” Annabelle said. “It’s only a broken pitcher, it’s all right.”

But it wasn’t, and Elaine struggled to breathe through the endless sobs. Then came a pounding on their front door.

“Miss Larkin? What’s going on in there?” The door handle wiggled, but it was locked.

Annabelle raced to the door and cracked it open to see old Mr. Hillenbrand looking in with concern.

“It’s okay. We’re fine,” she lied before closing the door and returning to Elaine, stepping around the broken shards of the pitcher.

Elaine’s breathing was still ragged but had begun to slow. These attacks of crushing panic were rare now, and moving to Washington had sparked a glimmer of hope that Elaine could find a meaningful outlet for her intelligence, but it was still a struggle. Every day was still a struggle, and the spells of panic could descend without warning.

“Please don’t go,” Elaine said. “Some other job opportunity will come up. It doesn’t have to be at the Smithsonian.”

“Of course.” Work as a botanist suited Annabelle perfectly, but she could find some other job if need be. Sacrifices were going to have to be made, for sometimes there weren’t many choices in life. After all, Elaine would never have chosen to be blind, so they had to find a way to make the best of it.

“Stay where you are while I clean up the glass,” Annabelle said.

She swept the broken shards into a mound while Elaine sat weak and despondent. “I’m such a useless person,” she whispered. “I don’t know why I’m still alive.”

Annabelle took a steadying breath. “You’re still alive because as hard as it is, you are further along than that soldier who won’t do anything but shuffle cards all night. He needs you. His wife needs you. You’re still alive because God has plans for you, even if we don’t understand what they are yet.”

It was impossible for mere mortals to understand the tapestry of blessings and tragedies God wove into their lives, but there had to be a meaning in it somewhere, and it was her duty to help Elaine find it.