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| My childhood home in Cedarville, Illinois. |
I’ve
turned seven now, and that means a trip into town to see the doctor, a check-up
on the progression of my tuberculosis.
Although my spine is deformed I am otherwise healthy, which is a good
thing to hear. Since we were already in
Cedarville Father took me to one of his mills.
I vaguely remember going to the mills when Mother when she was still
alive, and going into town while Father surveyed his buildings, but five years
is a long time. I’ve been down to his
mills many times, but this time I noticed something. I was tired of sitting in the storeroom so I
went outside, and quickly found myself in an area of the city unlike anything I
had ever seen before. There were kids
just like me, but their clothes were old and ragged, they ran barefoot in the
street, and they were dirty all over.
And I couldn’t figure out where their parents were. It was odd; I have never worn a dress with a
large rip down the front, or looked as though I haven’t been bathed in
weeks. The kids did not have what I had,
and it made me feel bad for them.
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