Re-blogged on Pen and Paper
The calm exterior of the neatly dressed, elderly woman in the chair crumbled. Her lined face twisted as the tears flowed down her face and sobs racked her body.
“I watched him die in the back room. He was only three years old.”
The doctor in the other chair nodded encouragingly but did not say anything.
“He stood on a rusty nail in the backyard. Within a few days he became ill with a high fever and it soon became apparent that there was something very wrong with him. The doctor came but there were no antibiotics available in those early days of the war so there was little he could do to stop the infection that swept through Grant’s child’s body.”
The doctor wrote some notes on the startlingly white page of his notebook.
“We watched him die an agonizing death. All the muscles in his frail body spasmed…
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