‘Yes, really!’ Steve suddenly noticed a small stuffed dog near Mary’s arms. The well worn plush animal’s ears were ripped and it obviously had...served its purpose well. Picking up Mary’s security blanket, Steve held it in front of her line of vision. ‘Is this your dog?’ ‘That’s Tracker…he’s my best friend.’ ‘I’m your friend too, Mary, and from now on, I’m going to tell the story of you and Tracker whenever I give talks at my church. So, your memory will never die…’ ‘Never?’ Mary’s voice was. The Pilgrim began walking towards the point in the horizon the stone had shown earlier. He gestured for Molo to follow without another word. Molo seemed consternated, because they had been walking all night, again. What little water they found at times just before dawn, was barely enough to sustain them. It felt unwise to continue without resting, to exert their bodies beyond their limits of tolerance.He did not voice his concern though; he knew it was not necessary and only wasteful. The. More

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