Umber (72)

She was soon finished.  She seemed so invigorated that I stared at her, amazed.  She laughed.  “I feel better already, ” she told me.  And indeed, she seemed much more robust than she’d been an hour earlier.

“Now, Marla, please hand me some of those envelopes.”  She stuffed each envelope with a pile of papers.

“All we need to do now is to place these envelopes in the collection box at the back of Saint Anthony’s Church–do you know where that is?”

I didn’t know why she wanted me to put the envelopes in the collection box, but I nodded, and she placed the bundle of envelopes in my handbag, saying, “The collection box is right next to the statue of Joan of Arc.”

I finished my tea and we talked a bit more, mostly about the weather.  Finally I said, “I guess I’d better get over to the church.”

“Oh, yes, the sooner the better!  And thank you so much, dear Marla.”  She placed her gnarled hands over mine, and I noticed that they were no longer shaking.

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