I wrote this while Ethan was in the USC Hospital burn unit. He is back home, the bandages are off his hands, and his feet are healing, as evidenced by his standing on them several times a day. He is not walking yet, but I suspect the crawling is getting old for this energetic 18-month-old. He heads back to the burn unit next week for another check-up. Hopefully, it won’t be long before his feet are healed, and he’s running again through the orange grove.

Thank you all for your support and prayers. Our family is very grateful.

Here’s my poem:

How It Feels To Be The Grandmother of a Injured Boy

Helpless.

How do you help an 18-month-old little boy who has suffered 2nd and 3rd-degree burns on his feet and hands while toddling over sand-covered smothering embers at the beach?

Angry.

Who doesn’t know that sand doesn’t extinguish fire and red-hot coals? It acts as an insulator and makes the buried coals hotter. That person or those people have no idea their actions have adversely affected one little boy, his family, and friends.

Relieved.

I am thankful that he has had top-notch care at the Fresno Burn Center and now at the USC Hospital burn unit.

Worried.

Even if he is at a top-ranked burn unit, what if other complications crop up? What about an infection that could harm my little grandson?

Sad.

It’s hard to watch the pain crease his little innocent face whenever his feet touch the floor or the bed rail.

Happy.

I am glad he’s getting better and has only hand and foot injuries. His burns could have been much worse.

Concerned.

Watching his Mama and Daddy’s constant attention makes me wish I could do more to alleviate their tiredness and worry.

Grateful.

Grateful that family and friends have rallied so completely, and everyone is doing his/her best to help in any way possible.

Surrendered.

I am aware I have no control here. I have to ask for help from God and pray that all will be well.

Ethan, at the burn unit

Ethan, this afternoon