Here’s my finger cutting story. I was living with my dad at the time and we had a garden. I went outside to cut some dill down. Was holding a bunch of dill in one hand and a sharp knife in the other. Slice, and I nicked my thumb knuckle. A shock of lightning went through my body. The cut wasn’t even that bad, but my body’s response made my hands tremble as I looked at the blood oozing out. “Did something happen?” I heard my dad say, he was standing in the open glass sliding door. I know that he was at the kitchen sink at the moment of the accident. His hands where wet as he looked at me. “Did you see something? Why do you ask?” I asked, surprised to see him at the door. “No,” he said, “but I felt something.” I was confused, “What do you mean? you didn’t see anything happen just now?” “No, but my heart jumped.” I looked at him, surprised at the invisible connection I thought we didn’t have. Only then did I show him what happened, my hand still trembling. I have a barely-noticeable scar from that day, a reminder of my dad’s love. I also have a scar on my other thumb from years before that. Two unlucky thumbs :) Dad was teaching me to make sauerkraut and I nicked my finger while shredding a carrot. That was a simple lesson to be more careful ;) Sauerkraut is a lot of work!
by Vera Chosenko