By Maureen Burn
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Then I used to feed it all to my animals. But I always kept some good grain for a rainy day, when I couldn’t go out. On a dry day, if my feet were not troubling me, I used to go out with a sack and collect planta del chancho (“sow thistle”) for my pig. I was often so eager to fill my sack that I wandered far before I noticed I had lost a shoe. Then I would have to go back to find it. Foot Troubles Among the Patients T his kind of thing often happens, as most folk with leprosy have lost the sense of feeling in their feet.
C o . u k 40 branches and often had a big bundle of firewood to bring home. Many a time I would startle a big rattlesnake or a yararé acá curusú (Bothrops snake) under the fallen branches. But I just could not be afraid of them, for I was facing something much worse than a snake bite—the fear of being sent away to the leper colony. I often wondered if all the loneliness of my isolation and the sorrow of seeing my family neglected in many ways was necessary, as my tests always came back with nothing found in them.
I opened it and tried to read it but could not make head or tail of it. When Eugenio saw me with it, he said, “There is a group that reads the Bible every Sunday morning. ” So I went. The group met at the ranchito (“hut”) of a man called Apolinario. He welcomed me and told me I could come any time, and he gave me the present of a bombilla. He said I should learn to take yerba maté with it. It was a good pasatiempo (pastime), it was wholesome, and it would mix well with my thoughts about my husband and my son, and God.