www.whyville.net Mar 22, 2009 Weekly Issue



Morgan612
Times Writer

The Voice of Cancer: Part 6

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Whenever Devon was well enough, her mother allowed her to see some of the kids from school, while she went into pick up the work Devon was missing. She would often visit her classroom, where all of the children were always eager to see her. They frequently made her cards, drew her pictures, and wrote her letters. They would never know how much these simple gestures meant to Devon.

She would go back to the hospital, and read each one with a smile on her face and tenderness in her heart. Each one was special to her, each deserving to be hung on the wall where she could see it clearly. The wall became fuller with each visit to school, and soon not another piece of paper could possibly fit.

"Dev, honey, you have a full wall, do you need to see all of them?"

Devon needed to see all of them. With the nurse's permission they began filling yet another wall and Devon was excited, for she knew one day her entire room would be filled with cards and pictures.

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One particular morning, Devon's mom came into her hospital room to see if she was ready to go pay another visit to the kids. She had made brownies to bring along to share; she knew the sharing the treats was Devon's favorite part of the visits (besides getting the cards of course).

But that day, Devon did not have the smile on her face, she did not have the gladness in her heart, she did not have the excitement in her eyes. All that could be seen when looking at Devon was a slightly disappointed look upon her face.

"I don't wanna go visit the kids today, Mommy," she said in her sad voice, the voice she almost never used.

"Why not, Dev? Are you feeling sick today?"

"No, I feel fine. I just don't wanna go." Her mom decided not to question it, just to let her stay in bed. She figured she needed the rest and they had visited almost every week.

She began to walk out of the room, in need of another cup of coffee from her long night. As she approached the trash can, she stopped in her tracks. There laying on top of a pile of garbage was a long, thin strand of blonde hair. The day they had both silently wished would never come was there.

Author's Note: Sorry so short this week, and I apologize for this not being in last week. I haven't had much time to write.

 

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