That evening Mercy helped hand out bread. When she reached the end, only a small piece remained on her own plate. Christiana was about to bring her more when Mercy picked up the empty basket and went to ask what else needed doing.
The people in the kitchen asked her to eat first. “I’m not tired,” she said. Then she bent to lift a bucket far heavier than her basket and swayed on her feet. Chris’s father caught the bucket and told her there was no hurry.
The Interpreter asked her to bring the basket to the table. “Suppose you came here asking for bread, but I would give you none until you had filled this basket with bread yourself. Could that work?”
“If it were full, why would she ask?” Christiana’s daughter said.
Mercy understood something of his meaning and blushed. “I’m always afraid that if people find I’m no use, they won’t let me stay.”
Christiana could not pretend she never felt that way. Since leaving the city, she had kept washing clothes, cleaning shoes, and checking food. She wanted to care for her family. But secretly she also hoped someone would say, “Now you have made up for everything you did before.”
The Interpreter opened the Bible. He read that we are saved by grace, through faith, not by our own works. “Jesus died for sinners and rose again. The rescue he has accomplished is not waiting for you to pay the other half. We receive it with empty hands. Then we learn to use those hands to serve.”
“Does that mean we needn’t do these things?” Chris’s father asked.
“A new life bears new fruit. But fruit cannot buy life for a dead tree. Sharing bread is a good and loving thing for Mercy to do. Starving herself to earn God’s love puts everything the wrong way round.”
He placed a bowl of soup in front of Mercy and asked her to sit. Christiana sat too. She discovered that when everyone was busy, accepting care could be harder than getting up to carry another bucket.
After the meal, she noticed a web in the window corner. A small spider hid there. Nobody had thrown it into the rain because it was ugly. Following her gaze, the Interpreter said, “Even something with nothing much to boast of can live in a house like this. You do not need to find something to boast of before you come to the Lord.”
That night, Mercy mended a torn cuff and put away her needle. The other garment could wait until morning. Christiana looked at the empty basket, thanked God, and finished her soup.