To strangers the plains of Eastern Montana seem barren, especially in late autumn. The horizon appears endlessly flat, and only occasionally above the plain a low row of hills pushes up -- sometimes just a large bump of ground. Homesteaders built a small frame church upon one such rise, and it has stood since 1912, spared prairie fires, but not free from time's toll. For safety the steeple was removed and the roof sags six inches in the middle of the span. But every season and every week, worship is held.

With a crisp wind promising early winter, Sunday morning clatters with the sporadic arrival of cars and pickups. Each arriving worshiper first sees the same person every Sunday. Beside the church's front door an older woman stands facing the wall. She is there before anyone comes. When t…