SermonStudio
Spring Story
Stories
New Mercies I See
She was dying of pancreatic cancer. "The same kind that got the mayor," she told me in a tone that sounded almost proud. Perhaps she welcomed any measure of identity with somebody prominent, even if only a mutual terminal illness.
"Yep," she said, shifting carefully in her pillow-lined rocking chair, "it hurts me a lot today. And yesterday I couldn't eat. Won't be long 'til I'll be leaving this old place."
"Yep," she said, shifting carefully in her pillow-lined rocking chair, "it hurts me a lot today. And yesterday I couldn't eat. Won't be long 'til I'll be leaving this old place."

