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It was dark. The batteries were running low, and they knew they had to conserve energy, so the lights stayed off as long as they could manage.

“How much water do we have left?”

A light went on; a quick check was made. “Perhaps another two days, if we’re careful.”

The light went off again. Two days. It was a sombre thought. A voice in the darkness began to pray. Other voices joined the first.

“What if they don’t find us?”

The young man, a newcomer in their group, voiced what they were all thinking. They stumbled in their prayers, stopped speaking. Silence reigned for a few long moments.

A light came on. The eldest man in the group sat down next to the young man who had spoken.

“They will find us,” he said, putting a gentle hand upon the young man’s shoulders. “We must have patience.”

In the dim light of the torch, the other men nodded and smiled. The prayer began again as the young man turned the light off. Thirty three voices joined as one.

© Kari Fay

(Author’s Note- The inspiration for this is obvious. Who else symbolises patience this year better than the Chilean miners?)

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