The journey was unmanageable on two legs, nor on all fours, for her head spun so, sight threatening to fail, and all the feeling had left her legs. She tried to drag herself along with her arms, nails clawing at the periwinkle blue carpet in a weak attempt to move herself forward. Her breath came in gasps, and she feared she would lose consciousness, but she pressed on toward her goal, the sanctuary of the church and Sunday morning service.
She did not remember exactly how she had gotten there, and she puzzled at how no one noticed her, despite her conspicuous difficulty.
Finally, after what seemed like hours, perseverance paid off and she dragged herself into the sanctuary, where she lay panting, listening to the music. She did not know the song, and the hymnals were out of reach, so she contented herself with just hearing and watching those more fortunate.
Unexpectedly, a hymnal appeared before her, open to the medley being sung. She looked up, following the arm that held it to the face of her benefactor, a young woman with short, straight brown hair. No more assistance was offered, but she could only be thankful for what little was given. All too soon, the service ended, and she dragged herself under a pew to avoid being trampled. When all had left, she peeked out, scanning the great expanse that had to be crossed to reach the door. She felt so tired, even though her journey hadn't begun.