You’d have to say, the odds are in his favor. In fact, it looked like a lock, when he talked me into signing him up for Maestro en Casa in Morazan, where he would spend weekends with Fermin and Maria and their kids. They have a very professional program there, directed by Fermin’s brother-in-law Javier, including actual classes on Saturdays that cover the material the students will be working on during the week at home in their “cuadernos” (combination text- and workbook).
I thought I was a goner. Even Chemo was crying, sobbing at my bedside as I prayed for God’s mercy. But I wasn’t quite dead yet. I had had a dizzy spell, so light-headed, so disoriented I could only stand up by clinging to the wall, the office door, the table, another door, till I collapsed in my bed, guided there by Chemo. It was only 8 in the morning, and I thought I was having a stroke.
Christmas had us coming and going. And not just here in Honduras.
A week before Christmas, my sister Barb arrived at her St. Louis city home about 5 p.m., threw a big bag of Christmas presents and her even bigger purse on the couch, coaxed Jah the dog, blind and frail, out the door, and went for a walk. She returned to find her house lit up like a torch, in flames and smoke.