I continue to pursue my usual activities as the new day begins. After making sure that Francine is peacefully asleep, I leave the house and leisurely ride my bicycle to the monastery. Without prayer, I wouldn't know how to handle the passage of time. The days become too long, and the war becomes equally relentless. Every day, the radio or newspaper brings us nothing but long chains of bomb blasts or news of captured fortresses and too many young soldiers lying down prematurely. I don't understand why people sing songs of peace when war is something humans create.

Today, I sit alone in my usual spot. I look around but don't see the familiar woman anywhere. Perhaps we have met too many times that I have grown accustomed to her presence. I even know her prayers by heart. Hosen, Andre, Landon, Garrett, and Mason, her five sons, are all of age and health to join the military. Their souls and hearts are too youthful to understand that war is truly a ravenous demon ready to devour them. The fervour in the recruitment speeches has motivated these young men to leave their mother's embrace. Although we have only exchanged greetings a few times and cannot claim to truly understand each other, I empathise with that woman. I suddenly realise that my pain and loneliness are nothing compared to Madilynn's. She has never mentioned her husband, so I dare to speculate that he has either died or worse, abandoned her for another woman. In the worst-case scenario, that poor woman might lose her last pillar of support. Just the thought sends shivers down my spine; if it were me, I might not even be able to summon the will to breathe.

After praying, I prepare to meet the children and teach them how to read and write. At this moment, I face Landry, another young woman who has come to pray for her husband. She and her husband got married just a month before parting ways for the battlefield. Landry approaches me and greets me politely:

"Hello, are you Lady Morten?"

"Yes," I respond, quite familiar with this title. "I know you, Landry, right?"

"That's correct. We share the same purpose in coming here. I hope your loved one is doing well out there."

"My brother and husband," I clarify. "And thank you, Landry, it seems my prayers still have an effect."

"Eddie, my husband, is the same. He's granted a two-day leave to visit me this Christmas!" the cheerful girl says.

"Congratulations to you. With Christmas just a month away, you'll be able to see each other soon!" I reply softly. To be honest, I feel a tinge of envy towards her. Landry's husband will be able to spend the holidays with her, while I haven't received anything. I only wish for a response to my letters, let alone the opportunity to be visited.

It seems that Landry feels she talks too much and forgets something important. She hands me a piece of paper from her pocket and says, "I'm sorry, I get so excited that I forget. I see you here every day, so I think you will be interested in my organisation."

"An organisation?" I look at the girl in astonishment and then glance down at the small note. The Women's Association supports families with soldiers, a very common, ordinary, and somewhat lengthy name, but it carries great significance for many people. I quickly scan the call-to-action on the paper. Donations or fundraising activities support and help families in difficult circumstances, widows, homeless children, and elderly parents bidding farewell to their sons as they join the military. Suddenly, I stop and ponder for a moment. I look at the girl in front of me. She is young, just an ordinary woman, seemingly less educated than me. Yet, she has such lofty thoughts, and that impresses me deeply. While I still struggle with unanswered letters, Landry and the women out there see beyond their own losses and empathise with the suffering of others. I admire and feel a sense of shame at the same time. I suddenly become tongue-tied. Then, with deep appreciation, I smile and say, "Landry, you truly inspire me."

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

"Our men are out there fighting. Women's fate is to stay behind, and I believe we must do something to help them," the determined girl replies enthusiastically.

"Has this association been established for a long time? I haven't heard anything about it," I curiously ask.

"We're just in the establishment phase, Lady Morten..."

"Call me Fiona," I interject.

"Alright, Fiona. The flyer I give you is just a template for recruiting the first members. We currently have ten, and with you, it's eleven. We really need influential people like you to join. That way, our efforts have a greater impact. So, Fiona, do you want to join?"

Landry answers me with determined eyes and unwavering confidence in the importance of her work. I am quickly convinced by the young girl. Smiling warmly, I reply, "Alright, I'll join. I want to contribute something to those who fight for us."

"Thank you, Fiona! You have no idea how meaningful this is to our society," Landry exclaims with a jump of joy that she restrains within the monastery. But I can understand her excitement. I see the image of my younger sister, Thena, behind Landry's enthusiasm. It makes me feel youthful and responsible for this life. And who knows, perhaps when the Lord sees me doing good deeds, He grants me the things I always desire?

"You should be proud of yourself, Landry. Eddie is a lucky man," I smile and say. "If you need anything, you can come to Aries Manor to find me. Now, I must apologise and attend to the children waiting for me over there."

I point towards the children waiting outside the door, eager for their daily reading lesson, as a farewell gesture to Landry. She tries to add a few more words in her notebook and bids me goodbye. As I take a few steps, Landry seems to remember something and hurries after me, asking, "Fiona, I forgot, are you coming here tomorrow or will you be busy?"

"I will come, and I have nothing else to do," I pause for a moment, contemplating to ensure that I am not entangled in any appointments, although it is rare for anything to keep me occupied. "Why?"

"Then maybe tomorrow you can come with us to visit Madilynn?" Her face suddenly becomes downcast, carrying a gentle sadness.

"What happened to Madilynn?" My heart feels a small crack. I hold her in high regard, and it would be devastating if anything unfortunate happened to her.

"Madilynn is fine..." Landry shakes her head, but her face still reflects a melancholy. "But her five sons... They were hit by enemy bombs in the trench where they were stationed... None of them survived."

The church bells resonate in the air, filling the emptiness with the purity of faith and compassion. Flocks of birds soar across the sky, carrying the hopes of the home front to the frontlines. The hymns resound as a means to chase away the echoes of bombs and the tremors of explosions. We do everything to conceal the brutal reality unfolding, but somewhere out there, with every tick of the clock, another soldier falls.