The world lingers in the ground month of spring, April thriving in slow-drifting clouds across the blue sky, and in blooming wildflowers and roses in her garden.
"Your little garden is blooming proudly." Mrs. Barlowe rests her teacup on the saucer with a delicate click.
Neva lowers her teacup, her gaze drifting toward the yard, where flowers in vibrant hues bloom in a kaleidoscopic dream. "It certainly is," she replies, a smile curving up her lips.
Mrs. Barlowe turns to glance at her, studying her for a moment. "Are you with child, my dear?"
Neva blinks in surprise. How could she tell? There is barely a hint of her pregnancy beneath her dress, given she has only just passed her first trimester.
"I am," Neva says.
A smile gentles Mrs. Barlowe's face.
Of all the neighbours in Ziriri, Neva has warmed to Mrs. Barlowe the most.
How could she not? For there is a tender air about the slightly chubby,
middle-aged woman that draws Neva into the comfort of her motherly company.
In the earlier months, even when Mrs. Barlowe could not visit her herself,
she would send baked goods through Anna as small tokens of kindness.
Over time, as Neva grew more familiar with Mrs. Barlowe through church and their exchange of baked goods,
she began visiting her occasionally, often with Anna accompanying her. Neva is grateful for their company. Especially when she longs for her husband during the hours he spends away at the workshop.
"Would you care for more tea?" Neva asks, already reaching for the white teapot, delicate flowers etched around its surface.
At Mrs. Barlowe's assent, Neva gracefully pours the sweet, milky tea into her cup.
"Ella!" A familiar voice rises above the whispering leaves, stirred by the late-afternoon spring breeze, just before a flash of bright orange darts across the yard, cheerful meows trailing after her.
Neva chuckles as Ella makes a beeline for her, with Anna huffing close behind her.
As soon as the adorable little kitty reaches her, Neva scoops her into her arms.
Ella settles contentedly in her lap, purring as Neva scratches beneath her soft, chubby chin.
"My goodness, Anna," Mrs. Barlowe exclaims, "you cannot be forever running after that indecent feline!"
Anna lets out another huff in response before plopping herself down onto the chair beside her.
Neva smiles at the child. "Would you like some tea, Anna?"
"No, thank you.
But I would like a cookie," Anna replies, reaching for one from the plate and immediately taking a bite.
"Where is your etiquette, my dear Anna?" Mrs. Barlowe lets out a heavy sigh as she gently lifts her teacup and takes a quiet sip.
Anna pays her aunt no mind, instead watching her little kitty nestled snugly in Neva's lap. "She loves you too much, big sister."
"Does she?" Neva asks gently.
Anna nods firmly. "I'm afraid Ella has come to love you more than me," she says, scratching the kitty's furry little head, yet there is no sadness in her tone.
"Well, my dear Mrs. Lei," Mrs. Barlowe says, "may I ask how far along you are?"
"About four months now," Neva replies.
"Months concerning what?" Anna chirps in.
"The child, dear," Mrs. Barlowe says with a gentle smile. "Mrs. Lei is carrying a little babe."
Anna's eyes widen in astonishment as she turns to Neva, then glances down at her belly. "Is it true? You have a baby in your tummy?"
"It's true," Neva says.
A grin brightens Anna's face. "Is it a boy or a girl?"
Neva smiles. "We don't know yet."
"If you do not mind, my dear, I shall gladly aid you on your journey into motherhood," Mrs. Barlowe says.
"I would love that," Neva replies softly, warmth settling on her heart.
"When are big brothers arriving home, Aunt?" Anna asks.
Mrs. Barlowe smiles at the mention of her sons. "They shall be here for the summer holidays, dear." Yet a flicker of worry passes through her deep brown eyes. "Although, I wish they could come sooner. With the unrest spreading,
I cannot help but be afraid for them, even if the town where they study has not yet been threatened."
Neva's spirit dims at the mention of the rising persecution of believers.
The persecution of Christians is nothing new. The world has repeatedly failed to protect those whose faith is rooted in the beautiful Saviour, the Holy Lamb Who was sacrificed for the sins of mankind.
Militant insurgencies remain among the major forces that target believers across the world, leaving countless people to suffer only because of their faith.
There has been news that Armasia, a countryside not far from Ziriri, has come under attack.
The churches had been destroyed, villages raided, and families slaughtered or stolen away from their homes.
Although Ziriri is known as a peaceful place, tucked away from the violence spreading across the wider world, with the vast majority of people being believers, its history isn't entirely untainted.
Neva's heart quickens with fear at the thought of the violence reaching Ziriri as well.
No. Not again, Father.
Not when it's no longer only her and her husband.
Not when she carries an innocent life inside her.
"It is a cruel world indeed," Mrs. Barlowe says with a heavy sigh. "May God save us all."