The Life of a Healer- Part 6 (brain injuries and miracles)


Wildflower laid there staring at the ceiling, the little white dog standing over her.  She scolded herself for getting hurt so easily.  The hatch of the minivan was not all the way released as it held against the closed garage door and as she backed out of the opening behind the minivan after retrieving something she hit her head on the corner of that hatch so hard it knocked her to the ground.  The soft spot on the crown of her head stung and she had trouble getting up.

Oh, maybe it was the same day or perhaps the next but the good husband couldn’t get a hold of Wildflower and called the neighbor to go by the house and there she was found lying on the stairs muttering in French about her children and wasn’t able to get up.  Things were going downhill quickly.  A trip to the Emergency room led to diagnoses of possible MS and dehydration.  Wildflower asked incredulously, “MS since Wednesday when I hit my head?”  This further added to the loss of faith Wildflower had in doctors and the medical system but the next year and a half with a head injury would complete it.

She declined in abilities and in health.  It had not even been a year since they were married and the good husband became a caregiver rather than a new husband.  She had constant, non-stop migraines.  Mini-seizures occurred regularly.  She had to walk with a cane as her balance and equilibrium were completely off.  She had lost a lot of hearing in one ear, and went from perfect eye sight to losing her eye sight in one eye.  She had to be told each morning what day it was, what her name was, what she was supposed to do that day.  She would speak in French then in English, never knowing which one she was speaking.  She was losing herself, her dignity, and her life and fell into a great depression.  She would never be the same again.  She felt sad for the good husband.  She had been a caregiver for a girl who had a brain injury and knew that it would never get better.  Doctors gave her hearing tests, and new glasses, and offered her anti-depressants and wished her luck.  Then one night she sat in the dark of her office praying and holding up the proverbial white flag.  She surrendered.

“If I am to have this disability for the rest of my life then I will use it to help others.  I will help those with similar issues and give myself to God,” she fervently prayed.

Wildflower’s children had decided to be baptized in the church that they were all attending at the time.  Wildflower loved the pastor that would be doing the ceremony and decided to be re-baptized.  That day she felt the cool water rush over her skin and hair and as she walked out of the sanctuary she realized she did not need her cane.  Over the next few days she prayed that the symptoms would not come back as she was unsure if God would have healed her yet again but it was certainly obvious that she was completely healed.  Her eyesight was restored, her hearing was restored, the pain was gone, her balance was restored, her mind was clear, and she and the good husband were overjoyed.  It was another miracle.


So, Wildflower decided to go to college to become a music pastor.  She loved to sing and found that music was a powerful way to reach people.  For a year and a half she studied music and fell in love with her English classes just like when she was a child in school.  But alas, time and money were gone and it was just before Christmas so she left school to get a job that could better help them make ends meet.


It was not long after this that Wildflower and the good husband were in a garden center looking through a book where lavender could heal skin conditions and goldenseal could heal bronchitis and she was ever mesmerized.  Wildflower had never heard that herbs could heal ailments.  She had long been disillusioned with pharmaceutical medications and doctor’s best guesses for ailments.  Something came alive in her, a long lost knowledge in her DNA, and she realized she did know these plants.  She read through book after book of herbal knowledge understanding innately each property, each flower, each history and consuming it like good wine.  In her heart and somewhere in her mind she knew all these things and within days she was developing medicines.

Wildflower and the good husband began selling these potions at farmer’s markets the following summer to see if there were any interest and indeed there was.  The medicines got better, stronger, more beautiful, more healing, and the herbs started prospering in her gardens and in her workshop.  But there was more to this healer’s journey.


The medicine people came to teach her then….


3 Comments Add yours

  1. juliepullum says:

    Sitting here on Sunday evening waiting for the roasted vegetables to be cooked, to have with roast lamb, sipping sloe gin and reading your blog it’s amazing she came through all this to be the person she became!

  2. Mark Pearce says:

    Betty Smith walked to the post office every day, staring at the pavement as she walked. She would open her little post office box, look inside, then walk back home. Every day. Part of her life’s routine.

    One day in 1943, she walked to the post office, staring at the pavement as she walked. She opened her box. But to her astonishment, this day was different. The box was stuffed full of letters. Letters from California, from Maine, from Oklahoma and Florida, from Brooklyn and Canada. In her own words, she had walked to the post office that day unknown, and had returned home famous.

    She had written “A Tree Grows in Brooklyn.” A beautifully written account of her life growing up an intelligent girl in Brooklyn around the turn of the century. It had struck a chord with people around the country and around the world.

    I’ve been reading your blog for a couple of years now. You have a distinctive voice, a natural talent for writing—and a story to tell. I think you should put it all together as a spiritual autobiography and begin sending it to publishers. I don’t see how it could fail.

    Then sit in your cozy homestead, look out at the vast plains and beautiful sunset–and check your mail every day.

    1. Farmgirl says:

      Mark, you always make me feel good. Thank you, thank you for the kind and encouraging words. And if you have recommendations on how to do that then you must tell me over our next glass of wine. You are such a tremendous writer, I am honored by your comments.

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