Mama Is the Village Midwife.


“Push, Hannah! One more good push!” The young woman on the blanket is drenched in sweat, and near fainting with fatigue, but she manages one more hard push, and out slithers a small, bloody bundle.

My mother is the village midwife. This year, I am fourteen, and old enough to help her, as she makes her rounds in the countryside all around our village. It is a difficult, challenging task, but the joys are worth it.

“Is the fire ready, Ruthie?” Mama asks quietly. “I don’t think we’ll need it, but best to have it…”

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