The Coal-miners Daughter

Lorna was no ordinary girl in the village; she had about her an air of expectancy. You never knew what she was going to come up with next but you could be sure she would come up with something. Whether it was her extraordinary attitude to life or her periods of reflective meditation no one was quite sure but truly inspired she was. Lorna grew up under the tutelage of her grandmother who took a keen interest in her deceased daughter's child in the hope her memory could survive in her offspring. Treating her as if she were his own daughter coal-miner Matt Carson did little different in his role of parent to this new image of his own child. For him it was as if the clock had just turned back twenty years and history was repeating itself. But history would have a new twist to it in this one. The first signs of this genius appeared in Lorna's reading progress and interest in other than children's books. She seemed as hungry for diverse ideas and theories as her grandmother's apple turnover.

One morning as the eight-year-old walked to the mines with lunch for her Granddad she decided to take a different path through a wooded area beside the small stream. The ground was littered with pine needles and the stream chucked on its headlong course away from the mines. As she followed it Lorna came across a man lying in the stream with his face half in and half out of the water. Lorna screamed. A bruise covered his forehead and one eye closed with the swelling. His body was pale and his shirt and jeans soaking wet. Although fearful she tried getting his face out of the water. It was then that she recognised him as the awful Mr. Johnston who also worked in the mines. He always looked at her with a long gaze that made Lorna feel uncomfortable.

With the help of the strong current Lorna managed to gradually roll the big man out of the deep and onto the dry sand at the side. Looking at him Lorna was sure that he was not alive; the one open eye was fixed and his skin clammy and his chest still. She knew from a magazine article, that people had been in cold water had been miraculously brought back to life after many hours. She heard the siren at the mines and knew the men were just about to come up for their lunch break. As she contemplated what to do she asked in a desperate prayer for God's help. Should she stay with him or go to the mines for help? Remembering the contents of the article gave her the notion to run the last distance to the mines and bring her Granddad to his aid.

Lorna reached the mines exhausted as the men were eating out in the sunshine. "Help!" she cried out her legs almost failing under her. "Help, it's Mr. Johnston!" she gasped, "lying by the stream in the woods." No one seemed particularly interested and carried on eating. She looked towards Matt Carson and said, "Granddad I think he's dead!"

Matt Carson stood and gathered his lunch from her hand and said, "Go along home now darling the men will deal with it."

"But he can be brought back to life!" Lorna said with urgency.

"This is not a thing for you to be worried about. The men will handle it," said Matt. "You go along home and be with your Grandmother. There's a good girl."

"But Granddad!" Lorna insisted.

"Go along home now Lorna, that is my final word," Matt said opening his lunch and beginning to eat. Lorna knew by his tone not to push it any further and ran off down the road again. As soon as she had rounded the bend Lorna took to the woods again crossed the ditch and made her way back to Mr. Johnston.

The sun was pouring through the tree canopy on the spot where she had rescued him from the water. There in the middle of the sand the body was warming. His skin was not so pale but his chest was still. Lorna knowing he needed resuscitation overcame her fear and reached out with both hands to heave on his chest. A gush of water startled her as it came from his mouth. Again with all her might she pushed his chest down and this time more water came out of his mouth. Repeatedly she pushed his chest and watched his mouth until the water stopped coming up and the sighs of air cleared. She willed him to live, prayed that she remembered all the article had said to do. Suddenly there was a cough and a splutter. She sat up as the man began to turn on his side and vomited. Lorna stepped back with fright as this awful man began to come to his senses. He looked up at her but this time not through her.

"Lorna," he uttered gingerly holding his bruised face.

"Mr. Johnston, it's a miracle. You were dead and now you are alive again," Lorna said. He sat up spitting to clear his mouth groggily. He looked again at her with a small tear welling from his open eye. "Are you going to be alright?"

"They found out what I did and did this to me."

"Found out what Mr. Johnston?"

"I was the one with you mother Lorna. Your mother and I were together before you were born. They found out beat me and tossed me off the bridge. But you have saved me, you have saved your own father."

"You are my father?" Lorna queried. "Who beat you Mr. Johnston?"

"For one your Granddad and the others. He was very angry. Today you have done an amazing thing, you have saved me from drowning and your Grandfather from being imprisoned for murder."