Her Gift was Greater

A couple weeks ago I attended a Faith and Writing Workshop at Concordia Seminary in St. Louis. Our first writing exercise was to dabble in (what I assume was greatly simplified) midrash, a sort of filling in gaps in the Biblical narrative. Here's my first attempt at what I hope becomes a regular writing exercise.

Her Gift was Greater

It had been nineteen years since her husband had died, and thirteen since the death of her only son. She sighed as she slowly maneuvered her way our of bed, trying to move her body in a way that didn't ache. She had arisen early since she planned to walk to the temple today, and as she had gotten older, the walk had gradually gotten longer and longer as what had been a one hour walk with her husband and new born son forty years ago, now stretched before her as an arduous and painful five hour plod.
She slowly eased around her house, finding her clothes more by feel than by sight. She felt her stomach growling and shuffled over to the table for breakfast. She felt around the table, the wood bare underneath her fingers. In the fogginess of her memory the thought of last night's dinner surfaced. The end of her small loaf of bread.  She sighed again, taking in a deep breath and releasing it slowly, blinking back tears. She knew that meant a trip to the baker, another three hours of waling added to her day.
Where had she put her money, she wondered, trying to recall where she had placed the small reddish-brown clay pot she into which she put her meager number of coins. She finally spotted a small blurry object sitting next to her bed and remembered depositing two small mites into it three days before. "Only two?" Her mind fumbled with the realization. "That's only enough to buy a tiny morsel of bread, and I still have to give an offering at the temple."
She slowly lowered herself onto the bed, trying to decide what to do. Suddenly she saw in her mind a clear picture of her husband talking to their son. "Always put the LORD first, son, and the LORD will take care of you," he would say before scooping him up and swinging him around as they left their home for the temple. She brushed away the tears as she sorted through her emotions, pushing away feelings of loneliness and gathering strength from the faith her husband had always displayed. She dumped the two, tiny coins into her bag and began her long journey to the temple.

Mark 12:41-44, Luke 21:1-4