The Injured Spirit Heals

Short Story excerpt


(c) Fay Hauser-Price

Raised their heads and whispered the way Uncle Jed did when he made the plow easier to use and relieved Rebus’s back strain. Raised their heads and nodded when Aunt Lucy fixed that cooking tray to make it easier to carry up all them stairs. Raised their heads and sang when Cousin Malachi plucked a song out of the air and moved the spirits of the devils who lived in the Big House to bless us with the kindness of extra food yesterday. Surely, these feats were more than dog or cricket or worm could perform. Surely, this was evidence of man. One whole man. Not 3/5 of one!

And when that alternate truth shook itself lose from the myth of inadequacy you might shout and lift your hands and cry “hallelujah”, “thank you Lord”, “you brought me through the lion’s den”, “out of the belly of the whale”, "out from under the thumb of Pharaoh" to proclaim, “I am somebody. I am somebody. I am somebody!”

Might just birth the audacity to hope!