The Little Sparrows (11 page)

Later that evening, the Claibornes were sitting in the parlor together, talking about how excited the pastor and his family must be at that moment, knowing they were going to take a daughter into their home tomorrow.

“Just think,” said Jody, “right now that train is rolling westward, and that little girl the Lord has picked out for the Forbes family is hoping someone in Cheyenne will choose her and give her a home.”

Emma nodded. “That’s right, honey.”

“And she is a very fortunate little girl,” said Jody. “She will be taken into a wonderful Christian home where she will be loved, adored, and given all the care possible. If she isn’t a Christian, it won’t be long until she becomes one.”

Sam smiled. “That’s right, sweetheart. In the atmosphere of that home, the little girl will be lovingly given the gospel, and at that young age, will soon open her heart to Jesus.”

Emma sighed. “Just think of all those orphans Charles Loring Brace and his Children’s Aid Society are placing in homes from Missouri to California. What a marvelous thing it is. I’m sure glad the Lord put it on his heart to do this great work.”

“Amen,” said Sam.

“And amen,” echoed Jody.

At breakfast on Wednesday morning, Sam said, “I’d like to be a fly on the wall in the Forbes house right now. Can you imagine the excitement? I wonder if any of them got any sleep last night.”

“Probably not much,” said Emma. “This will be a banner day in their lives.”

There was a knock at the front door.

Jody shoved her chair back and jumped up. “That’ll be Betty. We’ve got a big race planned.”

When Jody opened the door, she found a smiling Betty Houston. “Good morning, Jody! Ready for the race?”

“Of course I am. Queenie and I are going to make you and Millie eat dust today! But my parents and I are not quite finished with breakfast. Come on back.”

Betty laughed. “We’ll see who eats dust today!”

While they kidded each other about who was going to win today’s race, Jody led her best friend to the kitchen. Sam and Emma welcomed Betty, and Emma poured her a cup of hot chocolate.

As the Claibornes were finishing their breakfast and Betty sipped her hot chocolate, Sam said, “So where are you girls going to do your racing today?”

“We’ve agreed to race each other for that five-mile stretch due east of the
Circle C
to the old Cheyenne Indian burial ground, Daddy,” said Jody.

Emma’s concern over the girls riding their horses at top speed rose in her heart. Keeping her voice steady, she said, “Please be careful, won’t you?”

“Of course, Mommy,” Jody said, reaching across the corner of the table to pat her hand. “We’re always careful.” She giggled. “Queenie and I are going to leave Betty and Millie in the dust.”

Betty laughed. “Oh yeah? Well, we’ll see about that!”

At ten o’clock that morning, the Forbes family was on the platform in the Cheyenne depot as the train chugged to a halt. The two coaches that were designated for the orphans were at the rear of the train, just ahead of the caboose. They watched as the boys filed out of their coach, which was the one connected to the
caboose, and the girls filed out of theirs.

The Children’s Aid Society adult escorts lined the children up on the depot platform as the crowd looked on. Many people had gathered to observe as the orphans were put on display—some as prospective foster parents and others who were simply curious.

When the forty-eight children were positioned properly, one of the men in charge explained the procedure to the prospective foster parents, and soon they were filing by to talk to the orphans and look them over.

The Forbes family was in the line, and while they were looking for a girl who was seven or eight years of age, Clara spotted one further down the line. To Clara, the child stood out from the rest of the children. She nudged her husband and drew his attention to the girl.

Her hair was dark and hung down her back in twin braids. Her brown eyes had a definite twinkle as she answered questions of the couple who had stopped to talk to her, and her little jaw was set at an angle that depicted determination. Unlike most of the others, there was not a sad expression on her face, but rather, one of excitement and curiosity at what was happening around her. She was even joking with the prospective foster parents.

Peter whispered, “I like her, Mama.”

“Me too,” said Paul.

“She’s loaded with personality,” said the pastor. “I really like her.”

There were still three more couples who would reach the little girl before the Forbes family could get to her. Clara prayed in her heart,
Dear Lord, she seems to be just what we’re looking for. If she’s the one You have chosen for us, please don’t let any of these people ahead of us want her
.

Dan was praying exactly the same thing.

The next several minutes seemed agonizingly slow, as they
watched the people ahead of them. The couple that had been talking to the little girl moved on, and each time a different couple paused to look her over and talk to her, Clara held her breath.

Finally, the couple just ahead of them moved on, and the Forbes family stepped up to the little girl. The pastor smiled and said, “Hello, little lady. My name is Dan Forbes. This is my wife, Clara, and these are our sons, Peter and Paul.”

The child gave him an impish smile. Using her fingertips to extend her dress on both sides, she curtsied. “I’m glad to meet all of you. My name is Susie Nolan and I’m eight years old.”

The pastor and Clara exchanged glances and smiled at each other.

“Where are you from, dear?” asked Clara.

“I’m from Staten Island, New York, ma’am. My father died before I was born, and my mother died three months ago with pneumonia. I’ve been staying in an orphanage, but it was getting so crowded, the superintendent turned several of us over to the Children’s Aid Society so they could put us on this orphan train and send us out West to find homes for us.”

Dan said, “Susie, I am the pastor of a church here in Cheyenne. Would it bother you to live in a pastor’s home?”

“No, sir. I have never been to church, but I think I would like it. I sure would love to live in your home. And I would really like to learn about God.” Susie had been watching this family from the corner of her eye, and had secretly been hoping they would be the ones to choose her.

Peter smiled. “Paul and I really want a little sister. We’d sure like for it to be you.”

“We sure would,” said Paul.

Susie’s heart was banging her ribs.

The pastor looked at Clara. Susie knew they were about to make their decision. Her body stiffened, then relaxed as Clara
smiled and nodded. “Yes, Dan. This is the one.”

“That’s how I feel,” he said.

“Me too!” said Peter.

Paul set his eyes on Susie, smiled, then looked at his parents. “Me too!”

Clara immediately leaned over and folded Susie in her arms while the pastor motioned for one of the Children’s Aid Society sponsors. “You’re going home with us, sweetheart!”

Susie’s eyes sparkled. “Oh, thank you, Mrs. Forbes! Thank you for choosing me! I promise you won’t be sorry.”

A mist of grateful tears welled up in Clara’s eyes. She thanked the Lord in her heart, then kissed Susie’s cheek. “I’m sure we won’t be sorry, dear. We have prayed for the Lord to lead us to the right little girl, and today our prayers were answered.”

While their parents were conversing with the man who held a clipboard in his hand, Peter and Paul told Susie how glad they were that she was going to be their little sister. This pleased Susie, who felt like she was dreaming.

When the papers had been signed, Dan and Clara turned back to Susie and the boys, and Dan said, “Well, it’s official. Susie is now our foster child.”

Peter and Paul both hugged Susie, as did Clara and Dan. Clara then took hold of the little girl’s hand and said, “All right, Susie, let’s go home.”

Pastor Forbes and his boys followed behind Clara and Susie as they headed out of the depot. Each of the three had a satisfied smile on his face.

That evening at the church’s midweek service, Pastor Dan Forbes had Clara bring Susie Nolan up on the platform, where he introduced her to the congregation.

When the service was over, the people filed by to meet Susie. When the Claibornes and the Houstons met her, they liked her very much and welcomed her to Wyoming. Jody and Betty both hugged her.

Emma turned to the pastor and Clara. “How about coming to our house for supper on Saturday evening?”

“We sure will!” piped up Paul.

The pastor said, “Well, Emma, I guess Paul has spoken for us. We’ll look forward to eating with you again.”

Peter smiled at the newest member of the Forbes household. “Oh boy, Susie! You’ll really like Mrs. Claiborne’s fried chicken.”

Emma laughed. “Well, I guess that settles what we’re having for supper on Saturday.”

O
n Thursday, May 7, Charles Loring Brace was at his desk at the Children’s Aid Society headquarters. A smile was on his face as he read the financial report for the month of April. He noted the amounts that had been given by three new churches who had promised to help support the Society, then let his eyes run down the page, taking in the other churches, which had been supporting the Society for some time.

“Bless them, Lord,” he said softly. “Without these churches and the businesses and individuals who support us on a monthly basis, we wouldn’t be able to send those precious children out west. Thank You, Lord, for the great number of children we’ve been able to place in homes out there.”

Just as Brace laid the papers down, there was a knock at his office door. “Yes?”

The door opened, showing him the face of Tod Owens, one of his assistants. “Mr. Brace, Walter Myers, superintendent of the West End Orphanage, is here to see you. May I show him in?”

“Of course.”

Brace rose from his desk chair as his tall, husky friend Walter Myers entered, carrying his briefcase. Brace extended his hand. “Good morning, Walter. Nice to see you.”

“You too, Charles,” said Myers.

“Sit down, Walter.”

“Thank you.”

Myers settled onto the chair that stood in front of the desk. As Brace sat down on his desk chair, he smiled. “Do you have more orphans to put on a train?”

“I do. There are six of them this time. There are four girls, ranging from seven to nine, and two boys: one is six years old, and the other is five.”

Brace nodded. “And you have the usual papers.”

“Yes.” Myers opened his briefcase and took out papers, which Brace knew would have the names and ages of each child, along with information on their backgrounds, when the father and mother had died, and how long they had been at the orphanage.

Myers waited while Brace looked over each sheet. When he laid the last one down, Myers said, “The last one there, Charles—Jimmy Kirkland.”

Brace picked that sheet up again. “Mm-hmm?”

“You need to know that five-year-old Jimmy has a speech impediment.”

Brace looked up. “Oh? What kind?”

“Well, actually, it is a dual impediment. Jimmy stutters and has a very noticeable lisp.”

“Is he retarded?”

“Well, not that I can tell. I realize that a lisp, especially, often goes with mental slowness or one limited in intellectual development. Jimmy seems as bright as any normal child his age.”

Brace rubbed his temple. “You’re aware, though, that when prospective foster parents talk to this boy and ask him questions, they will immediately assume that he is mentally slow.”

“Yes, but he’s such a sweet little fellow, Charles. My heart is heavy for him. We have a continual problem at the orphanage
with the other children making fun of the way he talks. They keep him upset and in tears almost every day. I feel it is best to send Jimmy out west so he can find a good home where there will be no ridicule.”

Concern showed in Charles Brace’s thin, angular face. “We’ll take Jimmy, of course, Walter. But we have found that children with physical disabilities are very difficult to place in homes. Prospective foster parents shy away because they do not want what they feel will be an added burden. It will be even more difficult with Jimmy, because they will hear his stuttering lisp and automatically assume that he is retarded. All we can do is trust God to help my staff on the train as they do their best to find the little fellow a good home.”

“Well, God loves Jimmy, Charles. He will find some good family who will take him.”

Brace smiled, then opened his top desk drawer and took out a clipboard with papers on it. “Let me check my train schedules.” He put a finger on a spot. “All right. I can put all six children on a train on Tuesday, June 16.”

“Good! Thanks again, Charles, for the great work you are doing. We’ll have the children ready.”

“All right. The train will leave Grand Central Station at ten o’clock that morning. We’ll need you to have the children here at Society headquarters by seven-thirty. You already know what they are to bring with them and how they are to be dressed.”

“Yes. And we’ll have them here no later than seven-thirty.”

“Fine. Before you leave, Walter, I want to give you a report on some of the previous children you have brought to us in this past year that we have placed in homes.”

Myers’s face lit up. “Oh, I’d love to hear about them!”

Brace left his chair and went to a file cabinet that stood nearby. He took a folder out of a drawer, sat down again, and
began reading from papers that had been put together by his staff, who had been in contact with the children and their foster parents by mail.

When Myers had heard the reports, he said, “Thanks for letting me hear those, Charles. I’m really glad to learn that all of the orphans are in good homes and are happy.”

An hour after Walter Myers had left Charles Brace’s office, Tod Owens tapped on the door. “Mr. Brace, Pastor Darryl Moore is here to see you. Can you talk to him now?”

“Certainly.”

Charles Brace deeply appreciated Moore, who had led his church to generously support the Children’s Aid Society. When Moore came through the door, Brace stepped around his desk and shook his hand. “Pastor Moore, it’s nice to see you.”