The Innate Healer (and what to do when you cannot help)

I shivered in the cold, forced air of the dim hospital room and pulled my shawl tighter around my shoulders.  I listened to the ominous drone of the heart monitor.  He finally fell asleep.  I watched my child, now a man, lay there in the hospital bed with the flimsy covers upon his slight frame,…

In Hilda’s Farmhouse

As I carefully unwrapped each fragile teacup, each plate, I was overwhelmed with emotion.  Each dish is over a hundred years old, hand painted from Denmark, and so beautiful.  How did the young newlywed, the new farm wife, feel as she carefully unwrapped such fine things on her wedding?  A hundred years separates and joins…

The Life of a Healer- Part 3 (the darkest hour always passes)

The fire didn’t catch and the raging husband grew bored and went to break other things.  He would regularly destroy Wildflower’s things, her paintings, writings, photographs, anything within reach.  During this time Wildflower was very confused, for she had never experienced anything like this and it all seemed quite odd to her.  Abuse is when…