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My Mother and Sister Picked Flowers for Me

When I was 5, my sister who was 7, was lost in a snow storm on the family ranch and subsequently died of hypothermia. My mother died two days later of a broken heart. 

I was then raised by my father and older sisters and a brother. It was during the Great Depression and many home remedies were used to avoid going to a doctor. When I came down with a bad stomach ache I was given castor oil and an enema. My pain went from bad to worse and a few days later I was taken to the hospital 50 miles away, where upon I was given another enema. It was soon discovered I had a ruptured appendix and peritonitis. The doctor told his entourage of med students I would not make it to morning. Sometime during that night, I travelled through a tunnel towards a brilliant white light. Through this light came my seven-year-old sister, who had died in the snowstorm two years previously. She was excited to see me and was skipping towards me, laughing, and picking flowers to bring to me.

I then saw my mother hurrying behind her, waving me to go back. She kept saying, "Go back! Go back!" I knew then I was supposed to go back. I laid in the hospital for three months with a drain tube. The doctor was amazed that I continued to thrive in spite of the odds against me. I felt that my life had a particular purpose and after I had children
they were meant to go to college and help the world. They all became successful: two are teachers and one a nurse, and one a marketing analyst. I remember thinking how clearer the world seemed after my experience and that I was meant to to be here on this Earth.

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