WEEP FOR THE YOUNGEST CHILD This story centers around the nursing duties of a young woman named Melody at a time when the divine spark of love and compassion has been lost in mankind resulting in the termination of the weak, the handicapped and the elderly and requiring by law the sacrifice of the youngest child should an older family member need organ donations. Melody had resigned herself to this bleak reality until while vacationing in a remote wilderness area, she had a chance encounter with a loving family who had hidden themselves from the eyes of the world. During her time with them, Melody was somehow reconnected with her own divine spark of love and compassion and upon returning to her work duties, she soon found herself fleeing for her life in defiance of the established system. Weep for the youngest child is a story believed to be prophetic of the times to come.
About the Author: I was born a long time ago in California --- a lady never tells her age. Growing up with a love of books and writing has created many treasured memories of my father and me going to the tiny Library in the community where we lived. The Library was an attached room to the post office and, if I remember correctly, the postmaster was also the librarian. There were many wonderful Saturdays spent deciding on several new books to replace those we were returning. We were farmers and also worked along the migrant workers in the peach orchards and grape vineyards. My father had a small dairy farm with about 12 to 15 milk cows. Money was in short supply and milking cows and working for large orchard and grape growers provided our living. Three thirty, in the morning was "gettin' up time" for milking the cows. The daytime field work started about seven. We left the fields in time to get back home and milk cows. Although the field work was usually Monday through Friday, the cows didn't take the week-end off. It was twice a day, seven days a week, three- hundred sixty five days a year. I was better as a farm hand than a milker. When I tried to milk her, "ole Bossie" sort of froze up, and many times I was slapped in the face by a tail full of ----well, you can guess. I started driving the farm tractor when I was about ten years old. I was pretty good at that. My father only went to the third grade but taught himself to read and could multiply and divide fractions in his head. I didn't get that talent but I did get the love for reading and stories. I started my first story in grade school. I wrote several short stories when I was in high school and shortly after graduating. I still have the old portable electric typewriter that I bought in 1962. Sorting through old papers recently, I found some stories that were written in the fifties. Those are the only two that I have left from the early years. I began writing again about twenty-five years ago. I thought that I had missed the Lord's plan on having these stories published. However, recently I felt compelled to pull them out and finish them. It is amazing to me that some of the things that I had written about in the early nineties are happening now. Biblical prophecy has always fascinated me. These are my interpretation of what could take place. I believe these events are just around the corner.