Carrying the Message

The once well lighted streets were dark. A church stood silent, equally dark but there was Jo's station wagon, behind it Greg's pick-up and Sally's puddle-jumper. A faint light came from the back stairway. As we entered, the smell of coffee and the sound of voices met us as always on Tuesday night, but this was not a usual Tuesday night, it was four days after the great earth quake. Little had I known how much I really loved these people.