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had sharp eyes and a tender heart.
    "You sit," Abigail said gently. "I will see to what needs to be done. I have watched you, and I will do the same."
    Martha nodded, her eyes still glistening.

    Abigail was astonished to be summoned the next morning by the followers' council. When she arrived, there sat Martha, eyes fixed firmly on the leaders. Abigail entered quietly and nodded her greeting before taking a seat beside the older woman.
    "It has come to our attention," began Peter, gazing at the two, "that the work is becoming overwhelming. With the daily increase in our numbers, we need to organize better in order not to overlook anyone or overtax our workers."
    Heads nodded approval.
    "It seems that one of our biggest needs is the care of the widows and orphans. If they were kept separate from the rest of the assembly, it would be easier to meet the needs of all."
    Murmurs of agreement and more nods.
    "We have had some discussions here, and we feel we need to set up a distribution site where those who need daily rations can come and receive their allotment. They can then take the food back to their own homes or tents and cook it there. This will greatly reduce the food that needs to be prepared here. Martha proposed the plan, and it is a good one. We should have thought of it sooner." He stopped and looked at Martha in recognition.
    Why was I brought here? Abigail was wondering. Martha is well able to handle things. I am needed in the kitchen-
    "It has been noted that you, Abigail," Peter said, turning his head slightly, "are most capable and efficient. It has been suggested that you oversee these new distribution tables."
    Martha was on her feet, her face pale. "But-but I need Abigail in the kitchens."
    "We will train other girls for the kitchen."
    "We?" repeated Martha, arching her brows. "We? I don't believe I can recall your presence in the kitchen, Peter."
    Peter may have turned red, but his beard hid it. He chose to laugh. A hearty laugh. "You are quite right. I will be doing no training. But you are most capable of that, Martha. After all, you trained Abigail, did you not?"
    Martha reclaimed her seat, mumbling as she did so.
    Peter turned to Abigail. "Are you willing to serve in this way?"
    Abigail swallowed, then nodded. Yes. Yes, I am willing to serve. But the very thought of such a significant responsibility frightened her half to death. And yet she too was an orphan, and was sensitive to her companions' needs.
    "I am willing," she heard her own voice declare. Her mind was already scrambling to determine what needed doing, where she would begin.
    "Good. Then it is settled. You will talk with Stephen. He is in charge of the supply rooms. He will advise you on what is in store, and he will work out with you the processes of the food distribution. If you have questions he cannot address, Stephen will bring them to council. And choose two or three of the younger women to help you as you see need."
    Peter looked satisfied with this solution, and Abigail nodded dumbly. She assumed she was now excused and rose from her place. Already Martha was a few steps in front of her.
    They were almost to the stairs when Martha spoke over her shoulder. "Now, haven't I just served up a day-old fish? I was seeking to ease our load-and what happens? Peter goes and dumps more on your shoulders than anyone should need to carry. I'm so sorry, Abigail. I never should-"
    Abigail reached for her arm. "Don't trouble yourself so, dear Martha. I don't mind. Really I don't. I am happy to serve the widows. And orphans. It's a task that with the Lord's help I can do. It's an honor to participate in this way."
    Martha shook her head, her expression saying she refused to be comforted.
    "I will miss working alongside you," Abigail hurried on. "But we will still see much of one another. I will be in and out all day long. You'll get tired of me meddling in your kitchen. I will-"
    "That's enough now," Martha said. "I know you are just trying to make the