The Story Behind a Scar: A Forgotten Mark of a Vanished Disease
When I was a child, I remember being oddly curious about a small, circular scar on my mother’s upper arm.
It sat just below her shoulder—a ring of tiny indentations surrounding a deeper mark. At the time, I couldn’t explain why it fascinated me, but the image stuck.
As I grew older, like many childhood curiosities, it faded into the background. The scar never disappeared, of course, but I stopped thinking about it.
Maybe I had asked about it once and forgotten the explanation, or maybe I never asked at all.
Years later, on a summer afternoon, I was helping an elderly woman off a train when I noticed something startling: she had the exact same scar in the exact same place.
It was like déjà vu. That moment reawakened my old curiosity, but with the train ready to depart, I didn’t have time to ask her about it. So I called my mother.
She wasn’t surprised by my renewed interest.
What happened next changed everything…
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