I didn’t know what to do. I sat for a few minutes, all thought of my argument from before forgotten in the face of this misery. It was obvious she was trying to be quiet. I could tell she didn’t want me to hear her tears. It was also apparent that whatever weight she was carrying had become too heavy to stay mute to.

The convulsions became stronger while I watched in silent frustration. I wanted so much to help her. What could it be? What could draw such sadness from a person? What could have happened to bring her to this sanctuary in the middle of the day?

I quietly moved to the pew across the aisle from her and looked over, hoping she wouldn’t mind. The first thing I noticed was the puddle where she was sitting. I watched as three more drops fell from behind the hood to join the many already on the floor. The second thing I noticed was the way her arms wrapped around her body, almost as though she were trying to hold what she could of herself together through strength of will.