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gossiping, and when these very same things were left in the night for the poorest people in the village to enjoy, well, it would be no mystery who had done the gift-giving. A few times I tried buying these things in big cities, then transporting them with me to the country communities, but that proved much too difficult. If anything drew more attention than a lone woman arriving in a hamlet, it was a lone woman arriving with great packs of provisions and clothing.
    That was one reason I mostly had to keep to the cities. The other involved transportation. It might take me several weeks just to find some way to get from one place to another, let alone make the journey. I didn’t mind walking, but, as my former Niobrara neighbors had told me, that was too dangerous. Bandits lurked along every road, waiting to prey on travelers foolish enough to be on their own. I thought about buying a mule and wagon, but their price would have substantially reduced the money I had to purchase gifts. The only economical, and safe, way for me to get from one place to the next was to find caravans heading to the same places I wished to go. Usually, it would not cost much for me to rent a place on one of the wagons or carts in the caravan. Then, along with dozens or even hundreds of others I would make my slow, bumpy way to another major city. At the very least, every trip would take days, and some took weeks. If roads were bad or wagons broke down, the caravan might make only a few miles’ progress between dawn and dark.
    Upon arriving in the new city, I would then have to find a place to stay for a few days, and that was never easy. As was the case in Myra, most innkeepers did not want to rent rooms to a single woman. Those who would always wanted more money than the rooms were worth, but most of the time I had no choice but to pay whatever was being asked. After that, it took more time to scout out everything, to find where the poorest people lived or camped, and which camps had dogs or were too well-guarded. I would estimate that I spent two weeks traveling and planning for each night that I was actually able to leave gifts.
    I don’t mean to make it seem as though I was generally unhappy. During those moments that I crept up to campfires, laid down bread or fruit or blankets or clothing, and then stealthily disappeared back into the night, I felt a joy that warmed me even during the most frustrating times in between. No life is perfect, and no dream is realized exactly as it was imagined. Unless we accept the unwelcome parts of our lives instead of resenting them, we can’t completely enjoy all the good things that come to us. I grumbled sometimes, but I would not allow myself to brood. As the years passed, I was able to look on my problems as challenges, situations to be overcome if only I had enough common sense and determination. If I let certain things discourage rather than inspire me, it would be more my own fault than anyone else’s. Realizing this, I was able to maintain a positive attitude.
    Even so, the time came in the year 412 when the coins I carried were so few that I no longer needed to keep them in a pouch hidden under my cloak. I could drop them in a pocket of my robe instead. The fact I had managed to stretch my inheritance for ten years of gift-giving gave me great satisfaction. The additional fact that I’d be penniless within days was also something I had to consider.
    I was staying at an inn in Constantinople, by far the largest city I’d visited during my decade of journeys. I found myself there quite often during the years. The larger the place, the more poor people in and around it, of course; because the population of Constantinople was so immense, more than three hundred thousand by some counts, no one took much notice of a woman on her own. There were even a few inns that specifically offered shelter to those like me, and for a reasonable cost. It was a relief not to be stared at, and to