My daddy had bought that stove from a fellow that was pulling up stakes and clearing out some years before, and we'd had to spend three days trying to...haul it up the hill on skids with three horses pulling at it. Daddy had been forced to open up the wall by the door just to get it slid inside. He had decided that right by the door would make a fine place to put it too. It was cast iron and weighed probably five hundred pounds or more. It was a wood burner, and wood wasn't something that we had. His mum was standing in the doorway, with a concerned look on her face. He wondered how long she'd been there; he hadn't heard the door open."Are you okay?"Normally Chris would've been really embarrassed to have been caught crying, especially by his mum, but not this time; he just pointed to the computer screen. His mum came over and quickly read the article. He moved over on his chair, knowing that she'd want to sit down. She did, and then gave him a big hug. "Oh, Chris, that's horrible." She. More

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