Stories from the Farm

So, in recent years, I have grown to love farm work. I admired people with chickens and still am in awe over people that can actually ride a horse. For the past year and half, I have been going and helping a charming elderly couple with their goats. Their names are Dorothy and Clinton (the elderly couple, not the goats. The goats' names are Cocoa, Blacky, Brownie, Oreo, Nubie, Toby, Frosty, and Melissa). Going and milking goats in the morning and helping pitch hay and water chickens have brought me more joy than I could have ever imagined.
One of the most rewarding things is the stories I hear from Dorothy and Clinton. I usually leave with tears of joy in my eyes from laughing or come home in stunned silence. Clinton tell me stories of "the war" and Dorothy tells me stories of her 8 children and raising goats and cows. I have heard things about how Clinton has cousins that had a child together even though they were brother and sister. I have heard about delivering babies and never dilating more than a 3 and sub-water that was so strong it actually lifted a house.
One of the first stories she told me I would like to share with you now. While walking the milk bucket back to the house, Dorothy says to me, "You know I had a son that drowned". She tells me the story of this tiny boy falling into an irrigation ditch and rushing him to the hospital but, they knew it was too late. The small child was in a terrible state and the doctor said that if he lived, he would be vegetable. He spend days in an oxygen tent while Dorothy and Clinton watched over him. Things did not look good. At this point in the story Dorothy turns and points to a trailer house on the property and says, "So that was Bryce, he just lives over there".
"What?!" I said "He lived?"
"Well, sure, its my son, Bryce", she states
"Is he okay?" I asked shocked.
"Well, sure", she says again, wondering why I have walked past my car and up to her back door with her.
She went on to say that it was a miracle and it is because of the "Lawrd".

And so the stories began.