Raymond sprang to his feet and shoved a thick file-folder at Harker. "Take a look at these, will you? It's enough to break your heart."
"They come in truckloads," Lurie said. "The Litchfield post-master is running hourly deliveries down to us because he does not have room for the stuff up there."
Harker reached into the folder and pulled out a letter at random. It was written painstakingly by hand on blue-lined yellow paper. He read it.
Dear Sirs,
You will probably throw this letter in the wastebasket but I beg you to consider it sincerely. My wife age 29 and the mother of our four children is sick in the Hospital with cancer and the Dr. says she will not live more than 1 more week.
We have all been praying for her but so far she shows no sign of getting well and does not recognize us. I read of your miracle discovery in this morning's paper and hope now you can bring my Lucy back to life when she is gone. I enclose a self-addressed envelope so you can let me know if such would be possible, I will immediately upon her death bring her to you so you can give her back to me. I speak for our children Charles age 6 Peggy age 4 Clara age almost 3 and Betsy age fourteen months. May God bless all of you and keep you from suffering what I have been suffering, and I will live in hope of hearing from you.
Yours gratefully,
Charles Mikkelsen
R.F.D. #1,
Delaware, Minne.
Harker put the letter down, feeling a strange sense of bitter compassion. He said nothing.
Raymond said, "We have hundreds like that. Some of the damnedest things, too. People with relatives dead ten years want to dig them up and bring them to us."
Harker shook his head. "There's no chance you can help any of these people? How about this woman?"