THE SHOUT OF A KING

By Tessa Harvey


After a while, Alice said something which even surprised herself. "Would you like to stay, at least overnight? I can see you need a bit of help and I will not ask questions - yet! However, I would like to know your real first name." 

The other woman smiled a little, then winced, "Moira."

"Thank you," answered Alice. "How does a hot shower or bath sound? I can afford it," she added dryly, sensing the other's hesitation. "Also there is a spare bedroom for when family visit."

Later, the Lake District and her distant childhood forgotten, Alice wondered at herself. She went to church but it was merely a habit really, not meaning all that much. Perhaps she was called some kind of Good Samaritan, helping a stranger from compassion.

In all her many years, Alice had helped others, serving on various charities and committees, but never before in such a uniquely personal way.

After making sure the house was securely locked and the blinds drawn, Alice followed the young lady upstairs and whispered a mothering "Good night" and "God Bless."

Tears had pooled in Moira's eyes. "Thanks," she also whispered, overcome, and closed her bedroom door.

Alice had lent her a nightie which was overlong, but not dangerously so. That night she really prayed a believing prayer for help and wisdom.
It was no accident Moira had come to her door. She knew that.

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