The Healer Part Iii (From My Life Story)

At the age of twenty two I gave birth to my first child to survive. A beautiful and flawless daughter with dark brown eyes and hair like mine. When she turned five years of age warts began to grow on her hands. My daughter cried with eyes looking to me for the answer. The same eyes that looked up at The Healer Ms Agnes who cast away my warts so long ago. As with me, Traditional Medicine did not work and Ms Agnes and my Grandmother were long dead. Grandmother taught me how to use the herbs to heal when I was so young. Remembering getting rid of warts was a BIG job made me take pause. If Grandma couldn't get the job done who was I to think that I somehow could. I stubbornly tried all Grandma had taught me, but only in vain. How my heart ached for the knowledge and power of The Healer Ms Agnes. Such fretful sleeps did come as I felt hopeless for the answer to my daughters plight. And then it happened one calm and starry night. A deep sleep finally came so strong over me. While sleeping, right before me came a vision of The Healer Ms Agnes. The very next morning I awoke with an idea of something new to try. With a calm and soothing voice I sat my daughter down. I took her precious little hands in mine. Gently I touched and counted all the scaly knobs I could find. All the memories came flowing back and the story I began to recant. I closed my eyes and for the first time spoke about how my warts were taken away I felt a little detached as I recalled each detail I could to conjure up the Spirit of The Healer Ms Agnes. When I opened mine and met my daughters awestruck eyes her hands were still in mine. As I gave them a gentle squeeze I said " Maybe. Just maybe there's enough of the Spirit of The Healer Ms Agnes left in there for you too. A question came to the edge of my mind. What if The Healer Spirit spell is reversed? It could be my curse for meddling with The Spirits That Be. The answer came as quick as a spark. I would gladly wear mine again if it meant my daughter' would not. On the fourth morning after that day my daughter awoke me with such a scream. I rushed to her bedside to see what was the matter. Lo and behold there among the bedsheets were the remains of her warts. Dumbfounded and bewildered I was left with no comprehension and speechless while I embraced my daughter with congratulations. As I took my leave out of her sight I slowly stretched out my hands to see if my warts had returned. I mused aloud when I saw they had not. Continued in Part IV....