“Maybe I just don’t have the gift,′ Mattie once said to Uncle George. ‘Maybe you don’t, but maybe you do,’ he told her. ‘The gift sometimes starts out tiny as a berry seed. It needs some nourishing before it grows.”
“Then came the hard, hot summer when the wells dried up and Uncle George took a fall. He broke his arm and had to wear a cast from his shoulder to his fingertips.”