I give to you the story of my grandmother's birth in eleventy-one words...
It was February 12, 1923. A burly man greeted the doctor; concern shone in his eyes. ‘Come! Come!’ the man urged. They found the man’s pregnant wife in bed. The husband looked at the doctor. ‘Too early,’ he whimpered.
‘Three months too early,’ the doctor replied gravely.
The doctor soon delivered a premature baby girl. He snipped the umbilical cord, wrapped her up, and headed for the kitchen. Once there, he turned the oven on low, opened the door, and put the baby in a baking pan.
‘You will need to keep her on low with the oven door open,’ he explained. ‘I will be back to check on her daily.’
1 comment:
This is the story we've been told for as long as I can remember. Thanks David
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