A letter reaches Rome, but it does not arrive alone; it carries a road made of people and homes. Receive Phoebe well; stand ready to aid. Priscilla and Aquila risked their own necks. A church found a room where their household had space; Mary worked hard, and grace remembered her name. Names in the fellowship, lamps in many rooms, hands that held the gospel when the road was bruised. Known by the Lord, though history turns the page— no faithful labor disappears without a name. Andronicus, Junia, Amplias, Urbane, Stachys and Apelles, approved in the strain; Rufus, his mother who mothered me too— saints greet the saints, and the churches answer through. Mark those who divide with a flattering tongue. Be wise about goodness, untouched by the wrong. The God who makes peace will not leave evil crowned; under your feet Satan shortly comes down. Timothy, Lucius, Jason send peace. Tertius, the writer, adds greeting in ink. Gaius opens shelter; Quartus is near; the kingdom is carried by servants made dear. Names in the fellowship, then every name grows still. The mystery once hidden is opened to the world. To God, only wise, through Jesus Christ alone— glory through the ages, while grace leads us home.