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The helper from beyond the grave
It was late in the evening of December 16th 1878. Doctor Charles Blunden, a well-known Liverpool doctor, was still in his surgery.
At about 9 p.m. somebody knocked at the door. On the doorstep there was a boy of about twelve wearing dirty trousers and no shoes. There was a dark blue scarf around his neck. ‘Doctor!’ he cried, ‘Please, come with me! My mother’s ill! I think she’s dying.’
The doctor followed the boy to a street near the surgery. The boy pointed to a woman on the ground. She was unconscious. The doctor looked at the woman and then stopped a passing horse and cab. The doctor and boy lifted the woman into the cab. At the hospital the doctor treated the woman for pneumonia and luckily she recovered completely.
Some weeks later, the woman thanked Doctor Blunden for saving her life. He smiled and said that the real person to thank was the woman’s son. ‘My son?’ she said, ‘No, not my son!’ and she started to cry. ‘My son died from fever two years ago.’
Doctor Blunden was amazed. The woman continued. ‘This is all I have to remember him by.’
She recognized a dark blue scarf from around his neck. ‘It was his. I always wear it in winter.’ Doctor Blunden pulled it immediately. It was the barefoot boy’s scarf.
It was late in the evening of December 16th 1878. Doctor Charles Blunden, a well-known Liverpool doctor, was still in his surgery.
At about 9 p.m. somebody knocked at the door. On the doorstep there was a boy of about twelve wearing dirty trousers and no shoes. There was a dark blue scarf around his neck. ‘Doctor!’ he cried, ‘Please, come with me! My mother’s ill! I think she’s dying.’
The doctor followed the boy to a street near the surgery. The boy pointed to a woman on the ground. She was unconscious. The doctor looked at the woman and then stopped a passing horse and cab. The doctor and boy lifted the woman into the cab. At the hospital the doctor treated the woman for pneumonia and luckily she recovered completely.
Some weeks later, the woman thanked Doctor Blunden for saving her life. He smiled and said that the real person to thank was the woman’s son. ‘My son?’ she said, ‘No, not my son!’ and she started to cry. ‘My son died from fever two years ago.’
Doctor Blunden was amazed. The woman continued. ‘This is all I have to remember him by.’
She recognized a dark blue scarf from around his neck. ‘It was his. I always wear it in winter.’ Doctor Blunden pulled it immediately. It was the barefoot boy’s scarf.