Tessa held on to the cane as she walked to the hospital. The walk was difficult for her. Not only because of her old age and tired legs, but also because of the loss of her husband, who still wouldn't leave her alone. He had been dead for almost eight years, but she was sure she would never get over him.

At least he didn't have to watch as his beloved London was destroyed by the ignorance of the people.

Tessa's children, after the war broke out, wanted their mother to go back to America, where she was born. Because in America there would not be the same destruction as in England.

But how could Tessa ever agree to that? Turn her back on the country where she met her husband, where her children and grandchildren lived? The country where her first great-grandchild was just born?

The only place she could still make a difference? She used to run a home with Will where everyone was welcome. A home for wise men and beggars who have been given a second chance. Today she was just a frail old lady who people tipped their hat to. An old lady who almost needed care for herself.

But when she entered the hospital, the young sisters listened to her. They did as Tessa commanded them, for there was no one who knew more about the ailments, diseases, and wounds of war than she did.

She was needed there in a way she hadn't been anywhere for years.