Below is the poem entitled The Healer Part II (from my life story) which was written by poet
Sepulvado Anderson. Please feel free to comment on this poem. However, please remember, PoetrySoup is a place of encouragement and growth.
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Scarlett Sepulvado Anderson
Ms Agnes finally presented herself in front of me and ordered me to stand. I remember
feeling small as I looked up into Ms Agnes' face, looking into eyes covered with an opaque
blue film. "Ho ow cha han chile" her voice barked. So I quickly stretched out my left
one. "Ong un" voicing her impatience with me and pointing to my right hand. That
right hand went out like a flash of light with the palm held up. Ms Agnes then
dropped a package from about three inches above it. It was approximately three by
three inches square and was wrapped like a present in brown paper bag material with a
white twine wrapped around it twice. I could feel something inside that felt like hard
small pebbles and it was only about an eigth of an inch thick. Ms Agnes then told me to
grab a hold and take it in my grasp. "Nary let go chile" as she made it clear I was not
to release the package until it was time.
Ms Agnes then pointed at Daddy and Grandma and went on to say, "Dey gonna take ya down
un ole terda (dirt) road. Ya gonna ge ow d truck n stot ta wakn. Wak down d terda road un
take un tang an strow it ovre d onga. She gestured with her hands to show me that she
wanted me to take the package in my right hand and throw it over my left shoulder. "Nar
look back and nary pass ovre d terda road agin un tres d a (three days)un nary warts. What?
Don't look back and never cross the dirt road again as long as I live and in three days all my
warts would be gone forever! Before I knew it my my lips were moving and I said "Yeah
Right!" SMACK!!! Grandma done slapped me up side my head. I caught myself noticing that
for all my disbelief, through the distraction I still held on to that little package.
And "Yes Ma'am" it was as I did exactly what I was instructed.
Grandma and Daddy never got out of the truck as I performed the little ritual Ms. Agnes
instructed. When I was all finished I returned to the truck and we drove the hour and half
home in silence. I awoke early on the third day with a sliver of hope that Ms. Agnes was
right. When I looked down and saw all those warts still there it sparked anger as I said, "See,
told you that was stupid". I didnt dare say that within Grandma's earshot lest I wanna
get slapped up side my head again for being disrespectful. I went to bed that night
so discouraged. But when I woke up the next morning not only were ALL 111 warts
no longer on my hands, they were all in my bed. Well, all but the tiny six on my left
knee that I had forgotten to count.
Part III coming soon...