It was a cool, crisp morning. Hannah washed the breakfast dishes while her husband, Philip, tied a few chests onto their donkey. He was a carpenter, and a rather wealthy man had asked him to make the fine chests and bring them to his house.
“I’ll be back by supper,” Philip told his wife as he mounted the animal. He didn’t swing himself up like he used too, Hannah noticed. But, then again, her step wasn’t quite as springy as it had been, nor her back as straight. They were both getting older.