Rama recovered slowly. Moving from the bed to a chair. Walking up and down the hallway. Eating bread and drinking milk. Holding onto the bannister to hobble downstairs. Sitting in the drawing room. Looking out on daffodils in the window box. Rama’s spirits began to lift. Visitors came.
Reverend Donald arrived at the end of the second week, his dour expression softened by kind eyes.
“I’m much relieved to see you again.”
Rama cracked a smile. “God isn’t done with me yet.”
“So it would seem. I’ve agreed to serve in the new American Ramabai Association. In fact, most of the leaders from before will serve. I thought you’d want to know.”
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