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“So how does it work?” he asked.
“The healing?”
“Yes.”
“Well, I have to touch the person. I have tried it with just singing, but it does not seem to work.”
“Singing?”
“Forgive me, I am getting ahead of myself. Shall I tell you all?”
“Please do.”
“Very well. At first, I touched people and they became well. After I understood what was happening—it was actually Mama who worked it out—I began to experiment. If I touch someone for a short time, they will experience some relief, depending on the length of touch and the severity of the injury, and of course whether or not I am wearing gloves. Two hands work faster than one hand, and if I touch the affected area directly, it is faster still.”
“Is that what you did with Joseph’s leg?”
I looked away for a moment. “Yes.”
“Go on.”
“If I use both hands and concentrate very hard, it heals fastest. I usually picture the person doing things when they are well. With Joseph, I pictured him running and riding a horse. Things like that.”
“I see.”
“It also helps if I hum or sing.”
“Really?”
I shrugged. “Mrs. Allums thinks it has to do with energy. She thinks I release energy through my skin, and when I concentrate, I release more. Singing releases it as well, but because it does not have a target, it does not work on its own.”
Papa nodded. “How long have you been assisting the midwife?”
I looked at my feet. “Two years now.”
“Two years!”
“I have helped a great many women who otherwise would not have survived childbed,” I defended.
“And babes as well I should imagine.”
I nodded tersely. “Yes.”
He sighed and leaned back in his chair.
“I am not ashamed of my gift. It allows me to help people. And should we not help others where we can? Is that not the Christian thing to do?”
He pinched the bridge of his nose. “It is. I am not condemning you, my dear. Merely trying to wrap my head around this.”
I nodded slowly, relaxing my posture a bit.
“When Lydia fell out of the hayloft two years ago?”
I nodded. “I healed her.”
“And when Jane was thrown from her horse last summer?”
“That was me.”
