Leahy Medical Center, Nurse Training Program, April 1635
My dearest aunt,
My only excuse for not writing recently is that I have been unable to properly put upon paper what I have seen and done quite recently. In the past I have had more to write about than time to write and paper to write upon. Now, an event has occurred that has made all other things pale in importance. It has driven all else from my thoughts.
There is a term that I had learned but never properly understood. I never brought it to your attention because it seemed so unimportant. Healing and dying go hand in hand. That term is "mortality rate." I thought it trivial. Of course, when one heals one is intimate with death. Now, it is a term that should put to rest all the arguing over the miracles that God has placed into our hands.
There are so many things that one reads or learns or looks straight into the eye and yet does not understand, does not see. I am almost forced to remember a verse from the Holy Book . . . Having eyes, see ye not? and having ears, hear ye not? and do ye not remember?
I must make a decision, dear aunt. Of all at home that I must hurt, I feel that I will hurt you most of all because you loved my mother most of all. I was the cause of your pain. You do not say it, but I have always known and now I must make that pain worse.
Having eyes, see ye not?
I have seen great things during my time here in Grantville in the Leahy Medical Center, but these are things that simply can not exist, now, without destroying utterly many of the lies we have clung to. You have clung to some of these lies as well, my aunt. I, as well.
I have seen blind children see through the simple use of what many would call a miracle—vitamin A. I have seen the lame walk, despite broken bones that would have killed strong men in the time before Grantville. I have seen the sorely injured rise up as if from death's grip itself. I have seen stopped hearts started again.