The storm outside rages and the wind blows. Leaves swirl in a vortex of chaos across the cobblestone street. She first spots her through the pained glass windows. A distorted view of a woman robed for rest in the dusk of a coming stormy night.

The heavy wooden door of the All Mothers House swings ajar as she runs. “Sister!” Her voice is taken up and away by the wind. She cannot be heard. Reaching out, she shields her sister from the turbulent gusts. They stagger together, and her sister's eyes, distant and cold, meet hers.

“I am shroud in darkness.” She stammers. “My very path escapes my seeking view.” She can feel her sister shiver against the cold.

“Please, come inside with me.” She’s holding her tight, turning for the door.

“I fear I may be lost. And those whom may seek me shall not prevail!” Her sisters eyes stair down at the pavement, an internal struggle alive behind her hazel eyes.

“Calm yourself, my dear; all will be well. Please, let’s get you inside; you’ll catch a chill in this weather.” Together they stagger indoors. The oak door shuts, sealing out the chill. The warmth from the fireplace ebbs into the air around them as they come to sit before it.

“My dear sister, what ails you?” She asks.

“There are no words, sister. No meanings I could further express that might share the vastness of my sorrows.” Tears begin to stream down her face as she watches her sister drap a knitted throw over her lap. She feels so vary moved by her sister's gesture, and a warmth grows within. Yet still she cannot stop the flow of sorrows. “I weep not for me but for the souls of the darkness departed.” She tries to explain the multifaceted depths of her pain. “For I now feel the terrible emotion of a soul alive and well yet lost in spirit, sister.”

“Sometimes life presents certain challenges that we may feel incapable of overcoming. A flower growing sheilded from the warmth of the sun perhaps.” Her hands cup around her sisters, and she feels them begin to warm.

“There is no light! I wish it near but feel no warmth upon my very skin.” Her head drops with the weight of her worries. Eyes held tightly closed, she fights the spilling of her inner turmoil.

“You may not feel it now. You may feel lost, but I promise you this feeling will pass. There is always room for joy to be had. Love can always be found from those near, and daily life is always to be cherished, sister. Light is all around you, even now, when you feel that you cannot see it.” The warmth from the fire and her very hands continue to stamp out the chill in her sister's body. Her words battling to bring her sister strength.

Moments of quiet pass between them. The crackling of the fire a distant sound, becoming all the more clear. Then suddenly her sister opens her eyes, and she raises them to meet hers. “Your words feel as if a hand has grasped me in the shadows.” She muses.

“Sister, I am always here for you.” She smiles, watching her sister look now to their clasped hands.

“I feel your warmth against my pale skin; it seeps now into my very being. A light in my darkened prison.” She looks up to her. A sense of lightness washing over her face.

“I shall stand with you, always.” And she feels her sister grasp her hands, and together they hold each other. “I shall see you through it. Aid you in any way I can help.”

“I may seek you in times of great sorrows?” Her sister quieres.

“We shall seek each other. Wherever there is the light, flowers will find it.”

Sparked by her words, her sister giggles with a sudden thought. “May we grow like weeds!” She says laughing. “Unbothered by our planted neighbours and wildly blooming in the light of our own creation!”

“Let us stick together, and light will blossom forth.” She agrees.

Her sister nods, and after a moment of peace between then, her sisters gaze wonders to the kitchens beyond this room. “We shall check the tin!” She proclaims. “I feel my light anew, and it’s in need of tea and cake.”