This is a story that should teach us all what love of neighbor is all about.
So many returned service men and women suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder, often unable to cope with society because of it. This short story is a tribute to them…
***
I walked into the autopsy room at the beginning of the day to find a body awaiting my undivided attention which had been found in the woods above the neighbouring village where I grew up. I was equally shocked and saddened. It was my childhood friend Dhobi.
Back then most of the kids in our village were merciless towards him, throwing stones and shouting obscenities. None of them knew the simple gentle man hidden beneath the grime the way I did. I was the only kid who didn’t pick on him. To me there was something very special about this loner who had shunned society for the woods. Never once did I wonder why he lived the way he did…
View original post 654 more words
Musings on Life & Experience 
Thanks for the reblog Patricia Ruth Susan 🙂
LikeLike
You’re most welcome, Jack. It was a great piece and deserved reblogging. 🙂 — Suzanne
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m glad it touched your heart. 🙂
LikeLike
It should touch everyone’s. By this day and age we should all understand this and other health problems, especially those of the men who defend our freedom. It’s shameful when we don’t. My dad was in WWI and my brother, much older than me, was in WWII. My mother’s father was an alcoholic, and I think it had a definite effect on her. I think it made her more fragile than she would have been otherwise. She told me about how it used to drive him wild at times. My husband is 85 and suffers from bi-polar disorder. We all have some problem or the other and should be understanding. — Suzanne
LikeLike