It was still dark when I rose. The cat had been too restless to sleep longer. I sat awhile and tried to pray. I got up and made coffee, it overflowed the pot and bubbled on the boiler.
I tried to sew a new top from an old one. The result was tolerable, but odd. I prayed some more.
What would I do that day? There was the house and the laundry of course. I should try to find a housekeeper so I could focus on my studies, but what studies, when I had no one to teach me, and when my heart was sore and troubled.
Such a great sense of falling short lay within me. My heart was out of strength to hope in the direction of my own ability. I prayed for help.
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