Perfect Little World

“I read something about that, yes,” he replied.

“Well, when I was four years old, my father died of a heart attack. A complete shock to the family. And my mother, in his absence, had to find work to support our family. His parents had long since died and he had no siblings. My mother’s father was dead and her mother was in a state-run hospital. She also had no living brothers or sisters. She was, for the most part, entirely alone. She did her best to raise me and my older brother, but times were hard and she eventually felt that she could not take care of us. So she took us, without warning or explanation, to the Church of God Orphanage in Knoxville. I don’t know if you were aware, but a good number of children in orphanages at that time were not actual orphans. It was common for parents, fallen on hard times, to give up their children. In fact, there were several boys and girls at the orphanage who would be reunited with their parents and then, six months later, brought back to the orphanage when money had again run out. But that’s not entirely important, I suppose. I just thought you might be interested to hear it. The point was, Preston, that the traditional view of orphanages, especially at that time, was that they were depressing places where children were abused and neglected. And while that was quite true of some places, I have no doubt, my time at the orphanage was, frankly, a gift. My mother, bless her, had psychological problems, which were exacerbated by my father’s death. She hit us and put us through quite a bit of emotional abuse. She could not care for us. The orphanage could. I loved my time there, not least because I met my husband. I truly believed that each and every child in that home was my true brother and sister. I felt a kinship greater than any nuclear family. And while the staff was by no means a substitute for a mother and father, they treated me with kindness; I was loved, in some way, by not just two parents, but by a large group of people with whom I interacted daily. In fact, once I was old enough to leave the orphanage, Terry and I moved into an apartment while he started working at the store he would eventually own, and I felt so lonely in that place, removed from all my friends. I was completely out of sorts. And when we had our children, again I felt adrift, no one to help me or show me the best way to take care of these babies that had come into my life. And though we got through it, far better than most people, and we made a wonderful life for ourselves and our children and their children, I can’t help but think back on that time in the orphanage as the best years of my life. Isn’t that silly?”

“I don’t think so, Brenda,” Dr. Grind replied, feeling something click in his brain, his affection for Mrs. Acklen growing as she voiced something that he had considered for many years now.

“Well, it feels silly sometimes, but it’s true. And now, it seems like there are a large percentage of children who are unwanted and uncared for, drifting through this world, and I wish there was something in place for those children that’s better than what we have now. There are safety nets, but so many children slip right through them or they never even reach them. It seems to me that there must be a wider net, to make sure that every child is loved and cared for.”

“A network?” Dr. Grind offered.

“That’s too formal for my tastes,” she replied. “Not a network. Not even a community. Certainly not those awful communes that are just excuses for adults to remove themselves from society and do whatever they please, with no regard for the children. I’m talking about something quite different. Dr. Grind, excuse me, Preston, I’m talking about a family. I’m talking about a family that is larger than just a husband and a wife and their children. I’m talking about a place where everyone is connected and everyone cares for each other equally.”

“A family,” Dr. Grind then said, in agreement with Mrs. Acklen.

“A kind of family, yes,” she said, smiling. “A family that will not end, no matter what the circumstances. An everlasting family. An infinite family.” She reached across the desk and took hold of Dr. Grind’s hand, which he willingly allowed. “And I think, Preston, that you could help me make this happen. I think you are just the person I’ve been hoping for.”

Preston had no real idea as to what he could do to help Mrs. Acklen. In fact, what she was suggesting seemed too broad and unrealistic to ever be a reality, with no real structure for making something like this happen, at least in an organic way. But, as he held her hand, feeling the warmth of her skin and the easy way that it fit in his own hand, he could not resist her, could not deny her what she was asking for.

“Are you the person that I’m hoping for, Preston?” she asked.

“I think I might be, Brenda,” he finally said, smiling, so relieved that he thought he might cry.





chapter four

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