The Midwife Pg4 Continue of Tater and Junebug

With a deliberated ruse; she washed its tiny face with a soft washcloth. With no resistance, she enfolded the wee infant into a swaddling cloth. In the Autumn equinox, she placed the tiny form in the simple wooden box. She watched them perform their antiquated burial tradition, and then she returned to the loose gray dirt. She then headed home with a secret beneath her skirt. Earlier during the dim of the day, while they were seeking each other for comfort. And while superficial prayers were offered up with great effort. She blew breath into the tiny mouth and massaged its tiny smooth chest. And by the grace of God, the tiny infant was blessed. Madame Blackwell by virtuous askew created a makeshift bundle and made a switch. Her deed made unnoticed without a glitch. No regret manifested in her heart. No transient sorrow, in place was a spiritual upstart. For retribution was pacified and made whole. There was a righteous mood in her soul. Justice was done. For her, the sun's unsparing glory shone radiantly on her and her son.