Looking defeated, she said, "The mending is ready if ye want to deliver it... Or I can get a neighbor in the mornin'... Whatever ye feel proper," very quietly and monotone. With that, she went to her bedroom and curled up, using the time alone to have a good cry. There was no yelling.

The next morning was the same as the morning before as another influx of neighbors came calling with more food. She wasn't going to need to cook for at least a time. This time, though, there were women who had heard of her plight and donated things for her house and for the baby... well, babies... Someone brought an old cradle that just needed a paint job, another brought a box full of frilly hand me down little day gowns and linens, and someone else brought blankets. She wept from the kindness of all the strangers.

More mending was brought to her house as well... It seems people liked her, though she seemed like a quiet and withdrawn lass. She did her work, then she rested and ate, and then she started washing her clothes and the donations in her back garden. She fell asleep in the middle of scrubbing a quilt.