|The wooden bowl and Cyrus Collins|
By Owen Collins
The following came to my attention over the internet recently. I had seen it before, but as I reread this story, it grabbed my attention and hung on. The essentials of this anonymous story which I have edited slightly, follows:
A frail old man went to live with his son, daughter-in-law and four year old grandson, presumably after his wife died. The old man’s hands trembled, his eyesight was blurred, and his steps faltered as he walked with a cane.
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