“This is the last one,” Irina said. “The elder tree by the chapel was struck by lightning last autumn. But the flowers from the year before... they still hold the sun.”
She took the jar.
That night, back in Zagreb, she spooned a small amount into warm water and held it to her grandmother’s lips. The old woman stirred. Her eyes, milky with age, flickered open. Marija Treben Zdravlje Iz Bozje Ljekarne Pdf
