Ethel and Gia walked for hours. Seven year old Gia wiped her brow. “It’s so hot and this book is heavy. Why didn’t we get a wheelbarrow for this?”
You have money for a wheelbarrow?” Ethel asked.
“It’s heavy, can’t you carry it?”
“I am paying attention to the route. Can’t do both. If I get hurt, who will read the book? Not you. The mountaintop people can’t read. The words in the book of life are more important than your weakness.”
Gia stopped upon hearing weakness. “So special.” She opened the book and searched the pages. “Pictures,” she shouted.