Night had officially fallen upon Christian and Cristina as they trudged through the forest. To add to their misery, a light rain had begun to fall. Now, they were cold and both in a foul humor.

"I'm telling you, man, the shit you get me into is unbelievable," Cristina complained.

"You were having fun until we got lost," Christian contended. "It's just now that things have gone wrong that you have to start looking for someone to blame," he accused.

"I'm not LOOKING for someone to blame. I've FOUND someone," she said firmly. "I'm gonna blame the person who told me to go out and get in a car, drive for hours, and get lost in the woods! That's the asshole I'm gonna blame!" she concluded decisively.

"Well, that's helpful," Christian groused. "You know, instead of whining, you should be helping me look for cover. We're getting soaked out here."

Cristina knew he was right, but she was cold and frustrated. Fault-finding was not going to do anyone any good. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. They were here now, and they needed to work together.

Just then, Cristina slipped on some wet leaves on the ground. Christian grabbed her arm and held her up. She thought, in that moment, about a verse she had learned in Sunday School. It was a memory verse she had memorized just so that Miss Miller would give her a star on the colorful chart. It was Ecclesiastes 4:9, 10a. "Two are better than one, because they have a good return for their labors; if either of them falls down, one can help the other up."*

"Thanks," she said as she noticed he hadn't let go of her arm. "You're right. We need each other," she conceded.

After wandering for about 30 minutes, they found a rock that jutted out, providing a bit of shelter. Christian set Cristina down gently under the rock.

"Wait here," he said. "I'll be right back."

"Where are you going?" Cristina asked, suddenly not wanting to be alone.

"It's fine. I just need to look for some wood," he said as he walked away.

"But ---," her protest never reached him before his departure.

Fortunately, true to his word, he did return quickly. He held an armful of wet sticks. He threw them down and knelt on one knee. He took two sticks and began to rub them together.

Cristina looked at him quizzically. "Whatcha doin'?" she asked, trying to sound casual.

"I'm building a fire," he responded.

She took a deep breath. "Okay, a couple things," she began. "Your wood is soaking wet. And that stick-rubbing trick takes forever if it even works at all."

Christian went on as if he hadn't heard her. He rubbed the sticks together, more and more furiously, but with no result.

"Babe?" Cristina said quietly. He continued to rub the sticks. "Babe?" she tried again, a little louder. "Just let that go."

"I can't give up," Christian said frantically. "I'm the one who got us into the mess. I can't let you down," he lamented.

Cristina reached out and took the sticks from his hands. "Let me have that," she directed gently. Christian hung his head. Cristina could hear him breathing erratically and she knew he was crying although she could not see his face well in the darkness.

"Come here," she said, pulling his head onto her chest. "It's okay. Let's just get through this night. Tomorrow, things will look clearer," she said sagely. "After all, you and I know a thing or two about how to get through a dark night," she reminded him. "When the night gets cold and dark, there's nothing to do but to cling to another person. I want you to be my person," Cristina affirmed.

"I want you to be mine too," he replied, clinging tighter to her.

"We should sing," Cristina suggested. "My mom always says there are two things that can make everything better --- a hot bath and a good song. The hot bath is out. So, all we've got is the song," she reasoned.

"Okay," Christian replied, "but aren't we just going to wear ourselves out by singing? Shouldn't we conserve energy?"

Cristina shook her head. "Sometimes feeling better takes some effort," she responded. "Sometimes the very thing that would make us feel better is the thing we don't have the energy to do. But when we go into self-preservation mode, we lose the very things that make us happy. When I was younger, I would go through these really dark bouts with depression, and I would stop playing my guitar and singing. But every time I would pick it up again, I would remember why I started playing to begin with."

Christian laughed ruefully. "Yeah, it's weird how that happens. Depression pulls you away from everything that might actually make you feel better."

So, they started out with simple folk songs that they both knew. As the night wore on, they began to teach each other new songs. Cristina's were often in Spanish, and Christian's were in English and, sometimes, Korean.

The night went faster than they expected it would. Eventually, the sun began to creep over the horizon. It was a spectacular sunrise in shades of pink and purple. The two began to feel the warmth of the sun reaching their stiff bodies.

Christian took Cristina's face in his hands as he said, "Weeping may endure for the night, but joy comes in the morning."**

"Psalm 30:5," Cristina said.

"Oh, you know it?" Christian asked in surprise.

"Of course," she answered. "I filled up my whole memory verse chart in Sunday School," she bragged. "How about you?" she challenged.

Christian shook his head in mock defeat. "I was too wound up as a kid to sit still in Sunday School. They would always take me back to my mom and tell her that they didn't know how to make me sit and listen."

Cristina laughed. "That sounds about right," she teased.

"I haven't changed that much, have I?" Christian asked.

"Well, you still can't sit still, but I'll find a way to make you listen," she replied.

Cristina reached up to bring his lips to hers. When their tender kiss ended, Christian said, "I'm sure you will find a way to make me listen."

"You know it," she replied. "Now," she said, as she stood, "we've got to find our way out of here."

Christian rose to his feet as well. "Well, I've always heard people say that if you're lost, you should try to find a landmark that you recognize."

"Yeah, but we ended up here after night had already fallen," Cristina reminded him. "Nothing around here is going to look familiar."

"Yeah, you're right," he agreed. "Listen, there was a stream that I remember from yesterday before it got dark. Let's try to find it and see if we can follow it out of here," he suggested.

Cristina nodded. "That sounds smart. Let's look for that stream."

They headed back in the direction from which they had come. Cristina heard the stream before she saw it in the dense forest.

"Sometimes hope is heard before it's seen," she thought. "Oh, that's good," she told herself. "I'll write that down when I get home. That sounds like the beginning of a song," she thought silently.

It took quite a while to follow the stream out of the forest. It must have been about three miles from the road. When they reached the road, both stuck their thumbs out, hoping to flag down a passing car.

Finally, a broken-down pick-up, stopped at the side of the road. "You're welcome to get in," the driver said.

Christian jumped at the offer, but Cristina held him back. "We're in the middle of a freaking pandemic. How safe is it to get into the tiny cab of this truck and cram the three of us in there?"

"Oh, good thinking," Christian conceded. "Maybe we can ride in the bed."

"Yeah, that's better," she replied as they climbed into the back and held onto the sides, hoping they weren't stopped by any policemen as they did something that probably hadn't been legal since the 80s.

"Here we go," Christian said as the pick-up pulled onto the road again.

*Ecclesiastes 4:9, 10a, NIV

**Psalm. 30:5b, NKJV