A mother waits by her kitchen window, doing her work by the light of the day.As she prepares a variety of teas to heal the body, she wonders if her sons needed healing, needed her.
Six of her eight boys, barely men, were many miles away battling The Revolution. They wished she were closer, to offer healing and to provide the kind of strength that a general never could.
On this day I felt entrenched in the hardship and simplicity of life.
It was Encampment Weekend at the Nathan Hale Homestead.
