Then there was the description of another young girl – the camp seemed to be stacked with young, diseased girls – who was stricken with an abdominal parasite. “Such a pretty child. And so strong.” She explained how she evacuated the worm by perforating the abdomen through the navel and encouraging the extruding worm to curl around a twig. “Each morning as I gently twirled the twig, I felt the worm resisting my pressure and retreating farther into the child’s abdomen. On the third day, the twig snapped and the worm retreated.”
“Did the child survive?” I had no idea why I asked the question because I could not believe her account of this orphanage place to which she had been sent or assigned.
“She died. And in that moment, so did I. I fled. I ran and ran and ran. Sometimes I heard the voic
