© Chris Port, 2004
GERDA SEEMS LOST AND AFRAID.
Oh, what a cold and white and desolate place.
SHE HOLDS OUT HER HAND AND CATCHES SOME SNOWFLAKES.
The snow seems almost alive.
THE COLD BITES HER HAND.
Ouch! It is alive! But I won’t be for much longer. The cold is sucking the warmth and the hope out of me. I feel so tired and sleepy. All I want to do is lie down and rest.
SHE LIES DOWN IN THE SNOW TO GO TO SLEEP AND DIE. THEN, WITH HER LAST RESERVES OF COURAGE, SHE KNEELS UP.
No! I won’t just lie down and give up! Lord, give me strength.
SHE BEGINS TO PRAY.
Our Father, who art in Heaven…
SHE LOOKS AROUND.
Angels! Driving back the cold!
SHE RESUMES PRAYING.
Hallowed be thy name.
Thy kingdom come,
Thy will be done,
On earth as it is in Heaven…Oh Kay. Where are you, Kay? I need you.