Everyone Thought She’d Lost Her Mind
All summer, villagers watched an elderly woman climb onto her roof each morning, placing sharpened wooden stakes in “neat, deliberate rows.”
Many believed that after her husband’s death, “grief had unsettled her mind,” and rumors spread that she was acting out of fear or superstition.
Despite mockery and speculation, she continued through autumn, working in rain and cold. Each piece was “carefully chosen, sharpened, tested, and placed with precision.”
When asked why, she replied only that she was “afraid of what was coming,” offering no further explanation.
When winter storms arrived, winds destroyed roofs across the village—except hers. Her home stood firm, the stakes “breaking the wind’s force and protecting the structure beneath.”
Only then did neighbors learn she had followed “an old method her husband once described,” passed down through generations.
What appeared to be madness was preparation, and what seemed strange was quiet wisdom shaped by endurance.
