Desperate. She was desperate. The hope she once held had dried up like an autumn leaf: fallen, blown about, and trampled underfoot. Pain and longing replaced the hope she had once known. When would relief come? Thirst. It was as ravaging as anything she had ever known. At times, it consumed her. But her thirst wasn’t for the water she drew out of the well that day. Shame. It kept her from meaningful life. She could no more escape the shame in her heart than she could the side-glances of the locals when she dared rub shoulders in public….