Now she listened differently. No longer a bystander, she immersed far deeper. Listening not only with her ears, but with her heart, her mind, her skin.

Though Anna did not perceive a change within herself, by reading and upholding the values of The Way, her experience of life had been unalterably transformed. Communion had become an instinctive state. No longer did she merely watch the moon; she traveled moon. No longer did she mimic birdsong; she inhabited birdsong. As her body had attuned more intimately to the cycles and wonders around her, so had her soul’s roots deepened, and with them, her contentment.

Heavy with exhaustion, Anna slipped into her cave. She smiled to see that someone had tended the fire. She unrolled her mat and was about to lie down when she heard a clatter behind her. Looking up, she saw a dark body rushing toward her.

“Anna!” she cried out.

The sheep rushed upon the shepherd and butted its head into her belly. Anna rubbed her hands up and down the animal’s woolly flanks.

“Were you missing me?” she asked.

As if having understood, the animal lay down with the shepherd, pressing its back along hers. Settling in, Anna gazed into the glowing coals and imagined how, when she opened her eyes in the morning, their hot ginger blaze would have traveled to the sky to become sunrise. Drifting to sleep on this thought, Anna could dream of nothing finer than spending the rest of her days in The Narrows serving the Sisters of The Way.

Late one night, after finishing her work with the scrolls, Anna wove her way through the caves toward the Sisters’ sleeping area. Earlier that day, an idea had come to her.

Not wanting to wake anyone, she sat outside the doorway, waiting. She soon heard someone rustle and get to her feet.

“Greetings of the night,” she whispered to Tabitha when she emerged, as she always did, to get a drink of water.

“Oh!” Tabitha gasped, putting a hand to her chest. “Anna, it is only y-you,” she said, relieved.

“I did not mean to frighten you, but I have something that I think might be of help.”

“W-what is it?” Tabitha asked.

“Come with me.”

Anna led the young woman into a separate room and lit a candle. “Lie down here,” she told her. Tabitha stretched out along a mat.

Anna held up a jar. “This is a remedy that I saw Sister Shereen make out of the haoma plant. If you do not mind, I would like to apply it to your chest.”

“W-what will it do?”

“I am hoping it will help make it easier for you to breathe,” she told her.

Tabitha smiled. “I w-would l-like that!” she said and parted her robe.