Over Christmas dinner, my sister Joyce reminded me of a story she told me a long time ago, which I had forgotten.
About 10 years ago, she was a single mom. Her son Billy was a toddler. It was summer and she was sleeping with the window open, and her bed was under the window. She was awakened by some sprinkles on her face. She thought that she should get up and close the window, but drifted back to sleep. She was awakened again by rain on her face, but didn't get up. Then, her whole head was splashed with water, like someone had dumped a bucket over her head. She jumped out of bed and ran to Billy's room to close his window. Billy was a restless sleeper, and had somehow twisted his sheet around his neck multiple times. He was on the edge of the bed and about to fall off. Joyce woke him up and took the sheet from his neck, and found that it was very tight. If he had fallen off the bed, he probably would have died. Once he was untangled and fine, she went to close the window. It was not raining, there were not even any clouds in the sky, no water on the ground. Her hair was still dripping wet.
My sister's story
- Petra Wilson
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