Free Dawn at Emberwilde by Sarah E Ladd

fireplace bending and reflecting on the window’s warped glass.
    She moved to her bed and fell backward onto it. A canopy blocked her view of the ceiling. She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping for sleep. How the muscles in her back and shoulders ached from the jostling in the carriage, and a slight pain resounded in her head.
    A good night’s sleep was the remedy for both.
    But sleep eluded her.
    Unable to find solace, she stood, shook out the folds of her nightclothes, did her best to ignore the wind’s mournful howling, and crossed the room. Her valise, along with her other possessions, had been placed inside the wardrobe. She opened the heavy oak door and retrieved her valise to unpack her few items.
    As she reached inside the bag, her hand brushed a piece of cloth. She paused and stared at the small bundle of rough linen for several seconds. It was secured with a length of twine and nestled neatly among her belongings. She lifted the bundle and returned to her bed. Holding her breath in anticipation, she released the twine. The fabric fell to the side, revealing a folded letter atop the unfinished piece of needlework.
    Tears sprang to her eyes, for she recognized the handwriting and the needlework immediately.
    It was from Mary, her dearest friend and confidante at Fellsworth.
    She pushed a lock of hair from in front of her eyes before unfolding the letter.
    Dear Isabel,
    It is with mixed emotions I write you. How my heart is pained to bid you farewell. You are my dearest friend. How shall my days ever feel the same without you in them? Not knowing when we will meet again brings such sadness.
    But at the same time, my heart rejoices for you and Lizzie! How many times have you and I daydreamed about how wonderful it would be to join our families? To not be bound by the restraints imposed upon us by our situations and to escape the inevitable paths that stretch before us? I know you well enough to suspect your apprehensions to leave Fellsworth, but heed my words! This opportunity is a gift. Please consider it as such. Embrace your new world. Find your home and where you belong.
    Who knows what the next days will bring, and who will cross your path. But it is my prayer for you that you embrace this opportunity. Be an example for Lizzie and for all those you may meet. We do not find ourselves in new situations by accident. Oh, no! Remember, with each dawn seek guidance, and with each night give gratitude. For there is a divine plan for each of our lives, and a journey, and you have started yours.
    Please write to me, and I shall return your letters as often as I can. You will be in my prayers each day, as I know I will be present in yours. True friendship will span time and circumstances.
    Till our paths cross again,
Mary
    Isabel lowered the letter to her lap. Homesickness bit at her tender, tired heart, its harshness bringing tears to her eyes and a shaky breath to her lips. With an unsteady hand she lifted the fabric for closer inspection. Mary’s even, straight stitches adorned the piece. My voice shalt thou hear in the morning, O Lord; in the morning will I direct my prayer unto thee, and will look up.
    Isabel traced her finger over the smooth stitches. Each girl at Fellsworth created such samplers as part of their education and spent time every week working on the craft. But it was not the stitching that gave her reason to pause.
    Every morning at Fellsworth, students, teachers, and staff would rise at dawn and spend time alone in contemplation before tending to their responsibilities. They would begin their days in prayer and end their days in the same manner. Isabel had struggled with the practice at times. Her mind would wander. But Mary never wavered.
    In her mind she could hear Mary saying the same words. Encouraging her.
    She managed a small smile as she placed the tiny sampler on the side table and propped it up so she could see it.
    She had not spent even one night away from Fellsworth in over a decade, and now