The Healer Part I (from my life story)

Written by: Scarlett Sepulvado Anderson

Grandma took me to a Healer once.  I was only 7 years old and in the third grade. She first 
sat me down and explained that she was having my father drive us from our house in 
Bossier City, La to our home town in Zwolle, La. to Ms Agnes' house. She had taken Daddy 
to this same Healer when he was five or six. I had warts all over my hands that began when 
I was five. They were very large and hurt so badly. Though, the most unbearable pain was 
how the kids teased and avoided me. The embarassment was beyond description for such a 
young age. Grandma chanted while using many different herbs. Daddy took me to the doctor 
but their medicine didn't work either. "It's a curse", Grandma went on, "You're Daddy had it 
on him too at the same age".  

Even though back in those days warts were thought to be contagious, Grandma was rubbing 
my hands ever so gently as she assured me that Ms. Agnes possessed the power to make 
them go away. I looked over at Daddy and he didn't say a word but gave me a knowing nod 
of the head. I thought to myself, Grandma done lost her ever-loving mind! But lest I wanna 
get switched or knocked up side my head I play along.  

We got in that baby blue truck of ours and drove to Zwolle, LA. An aura of curiosity 
overwhelmed me as I walked up to Ms. Agnes' shotgun style tin shack of a house. It certainly 
didn't look like any of the doctor's offices my Daddy had taken me to in the city.  After the 
greetings between her and Grandma and Daddy, Ms Agnes instructed me to sit down on the 
couch and count ALL of my warts. Somehow I was aware that she didn't want to touch me 
herself and never did. I figured, like all the rest, Ms Agnes probably thought my warts were 
contagious. After counting all the warts on both my hands three times the same number, 111 
was the total. Ms Agnes was mumbling to herself "Boo Coo" (meaning MANY) as she busily 
scurried herself back and forth behind the sheets hanging over the doorways to two small 
rooms. From what I spied as the sheet was moved to the side, one room was a tiny kitchen 
and the other her only bedroom. 

Back and forth Ms Agnes went several times as I smelled the odor of something cooking in 
the air. I thought about what Grandma told me on the way there. She said that Ms. Agnes is 
over 100 years old. She's almost blind and having her eyes removed for some medical 
reason. Grandma told me that I'm to be Ms Agnes' last "patient" ever. 
Cont'd in Part II
Copyright © by Scarlett Anderson