Cindy has many more tears to spend. She sits alone in a rocking chair, attempting to contain most of her emotion as she reflects back on the event of the previous day. Cindy is overwhelmed not only by the circumstances, but also by the number of people who had attended the funeral service. Besides Community Bible, there was the complete congregation of Metamora Fellowship. And it was unbelievable the number of people who’d become acquaintances of Cindy through the countless activities she had participated in over the past several years. But the most amazing fact of all was that, of all the students she’d taught those few years at Wing Lake School, nearly all of them attended the funeral service. And many of them had written her beautiful letters of how she had impacted their lives.

   Cindy sits in the rocker, reading some of the cards and letters as tears roll down her face.  The cordless phone resting beside her rings.                                                                                                      

   It is Fernye.  “How are you doing, Cindy?”
                 
   Cindy wipes the back of her hand across her tears, “Okay, …and not okay.”
                 
   Fernye inquires, “How are the children doing?”