The war had raged for years. Folks forgot it was ever peaceful. Towns and cities were destroyed, and families were torn apart.

I lived alone in a cottage near the border, far from the conflict, protected by the nation’s strength next door. It was a simple life—I had a garden, some land, a small brick house, no nearby folks, and all the privacy I needed. However, little did I know my life was about to be turned upside down, in a good way.

I was working in my garden when I saw her wander down the path. I have no nearby homes, so she could not have come from here. She was staggering a little and had a lost look in her eyes. She seemed in fear but was unable to express it. I called to her, but she simply did not look at me and kept walking past, dazed. Eventually, she stumbled onto the road, and I had to intervene. I rushed forward and picked her up—she was light as a feather—and carried her into the house.

She was encrusted with mud from the road, and she was hurt in some places, perhaps from falling multiple times. I was very nervous, and I did not want to alarm her. I laid her down on the sofa and let her be.

After a while, she awoke and pushed her hair aside, and I saw a very pretty girl—large eyes, luscious lips, and an innocence and spark I had not seen in a long time. But alas, it was tinged with pain and sorrow as well. I was afraid to say a single thing.

She looked around the room and finally saw me, for the first time, and froze. I did not move; I was far away, standing against the wall. I smiled back at her, reassuring her. She did not respond, but finally, she nodded. She painfully got up.

I spoke to her, and she understood my language. She explained that her family had been separated from her in a village attack far away, and she had been wandering the country for days to this point—she had lost count. I was quite concerned but did not press.

I gently asked if she was hungry, and she nodded. I brought her a plate of what I had made that afternoon: fried steak, potatoes, and peas. She was very hungry and ate quickly. I watched from a distance. Some color came back to her cheeks, and she flushed. She seemed ashamed to eat so quickly, and I told her to relax. She drank some juice.

I sat far away and looked out the window, giving her privacy, but I wanted to be near in case something happened. Finally, she called me and asked for my name. We talked some more. She finally smiled and thanked me for hosting her. She offered to leave. I refused. I said I would help find her family, and she had to stay here. The road was full of danger, including violations and crimes. Her eyes shone, and she seemed to almost burst with gratitude.