The Little Sparrows

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The Little Sparrows Page 9

by Al Lacy


  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.”

  Chapter Seven

  On 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 tr
ain 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.”

  “That goes double for me,” Moore said, smiling from ear to ear.

  “Sit down and make yourself comfortable.”

  When they were seated, Brace looked at Moore across the desk. “What can I do for you?”

  “I want to tell you about three children in our church whose parents were recently killed. The father, Bob Marston, was one of my deacons.”

  “Oh my.” Brace eased back in his chair. “Go ahead.”

  “Bob and his wife Louise were drowned, Mr. Brace. Bob was employed by American Ship Lines here in Manhattan as assistant business manager. The company put him on one of their freighters, intending to send him to St. John’s, Newfoundland, on a business trip. His wife, Louise, was with him. The ship was caught in a storm and went down some twenty miles off the coast of Nova Scotia. All but two crewmen were able to get into the lifeboats, but the captain, those two crewmen, and the Marstons were swept off the deck into the Atlantic and drowned.

  “The Marston children had been left in the care of an elderly woman named Frances Roberts, who is also a member of our church. There are no living relatives who can take them and raise them. At her age, Frances is in no position to attempt it. Dora and I would take them, but we have both of our widowed mothers living with us. We simply don’t have room for three children.

  “Right now, the children are being kept in different homes among my church members, but none of them can take them permanently. I need you to send them west on one of your orphan trains so they can find a permanent home.”

  Brace leaned forward and put his elbows on the desk. “Pastor Moore, we will gladly put the Marston children on one of our trains, but I need to explain something.”

  “Yes?”

  “Our twenty years of working at finding homes for homeless children have taught us that it is extremely difficult to place three children in the same home. It rarely happens, even with two siblings, but placing three in the same home has only happened twice that I can recall. I just don’t want the children to have any false expectations.”

  Moore rubbed his chin and nodded. “I see. I hadn’t realized it would be that difficult.”

  “Like I said, we’ll gladly put them on one of our trains, but I thought I should inform you of this.”

  “Certainly. I appreciate it.”

  Brace picked up a pencil and a blank sheet of paper.

  “M-A-R-S-T-O-N, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “And what are their names and ages?”

  “Mary is the oldest. She’s eight. Johnny is six, and little Lizzie is four.”

  Brace wrote the information down, then said, “The first train that has room for them will leave Grand Central Station on Tuesday, June 16. It is scheduled to leave the depot at ten o’clock that morning. We’ll need you to have the children here by seven-thirty at the latest. I need time to talk to all the children who will be going on the train in order to acquaint them with the staff people who will be traveling on the train with them, to lay down the rules, and to answer any questions they might have. We’ll also need a good twenty minutes to transport them to Grand Central.”

  The pastor nodded. “Mr. Brace, I deeply appreciate this. The Marston children are polite and well-behaved. They won’t cause you any trouble, I’m sure.”

  Brace opened a side drawer on the desk. “I wish that were true of all our orphans, Pastor, but once in a while we get some who give us all kinds of trouble.” He took out a printed form and handed it to Moore. “This will explain what the Marston children will need to have with them and how they should be dressed. Will there be a problem with buying new dresses for the girls and a suit for the boy, if they don’t have them?”

  “No. The church will foot the bill.”

  “All right. Have them here, as I said, not later than seven-thirty on Tuesday morning, June 16.”

  The two men shook hands, and as Pastor Darryl Moore walked out of the building and headed for his buggy, he said, “Thank You, Lord, that You are looking out for Mary, Johnny, and little Lizzie. When that train takes them out West, please direct them to just the right family. One family, Lord. Please see to it that they are not separated but are placed in the same home.”

  On Sunday morning, May 17, Pastor Dan Forbes finished a dynamic sermon and began the invitation. While the song leader led them in Charlotte Elliott’s “Just as I Am,” two young men walked the aisle quickly to receive Jesus Christ as Saviour, followed by a thirteen-year-old girl.

  In the pew behind the one where the two young men had been sitting, Sam Claiborne turned and smiled at Emma and Jody. “Praise the Lord!” he said in a whisper. “Those two fellows were under conviction during the whole sermon!”

  Emma and Jody returned the smile.

  They were still in the first verse when Clara Forbes stepped into the aisle at the second row of pews, holding eight-year-old Susie by the hand. Peter and Paul were on the same pew, and their faces showed the joy they were feeling as they watched their mother and Susie move into the aisle. Together, they walked forward and waited as the pastor was talking to the thirteen-year-old girl while a lady counselor waited to take her to the altar. The two young men were already kneeling at the altar, being counseled by two older men with open Bibles.

  When the girl and the counselor went to the altar, Pastor Forbes smiled down at Susie and hugged her. Clara and Susie then sat down on the front row, and Clara filled out a card on Susie.

  Another teenage girl came during the last verse of the invitation hymn, and the invitation was closed.

  Pastor Forbes took those who had come forward one at a time, gave their names, and had each one give a testimony that they had just received the Lord Jesus Christ as personal Saviour. Forbes announced that each one would be baptized in the evening service. Then, having reserved Susie till last, he asked her to step up beside him, with his wife at her side.

  Smiling broadly, the pastor said to the congregation, “All of our people know that Clara and I chose little Susie Nolan off the orphan train almost a month ago. My wife has come forward with Susie this morning to tell you a little story. Honey …”

  While holding Susie’s hand, Clara ran her gaze over the congregation. “Since Susie has been in our home, and of course, coming to church and Sunday school these past few weeks, she has heard the gospel many times. It really began to take effect abo
ut ten days ago. She was showing definite conviction about her lost condition at family altar time and here at church at invitation time. Last night, about an hour after Susie had gone to bed, I was walking down the hall, and as I was passing her bedroom door, I heard her crying.

  “Of course, I opened the door and went in. I asked her what she was crying about, and she said she wanted to be saved. My husband and I never pushed the gospel on Susie, but from the day we brought her home from the railroad station, we prayed that the Lord would speak to her heart. God heard our prayers and the precious Holy Spirit went to work on her heart.”

  There were smiles all over the auditorium with heads nodding.

  The Claiborne family had beaming faces, and Jody was wiping tears from her cheeks.

  Clara looked down at the little girl with the long twin braids. “Susie, would you like to tell all these people what happened to you last night?”

  A bit nervous, Susie smiled up at her and nodded. She then looked out at the audience. “I took Jesus into my heart and He saved me. I’ve been born again. Now, I’m in God’s family.”

  The pastor laid a hand on Susie’s shoulder. “And you want to obey the Lord and be baptized, right?”

  Susie smiled up at him. “Yes, Papa.”

  Keeping his eyes on Susie, the pastor said, “You’re right, sweetheart, you are now in God’s family. May I tell the people that you are also in another family?”

  “Yes, Papa.”

  Forbes looked at the crowd. “We haven’t told anyone this news, yet. We wanted to wait till it was a signed and sealed matter. Just this past Friday, Susie officially became our adopted daughter. Her name is now Susan Mae Forbes!”

  There was instant applause and a host of amens.

  When the crowd grew quiet again, the pastor said, “Susan Mae Forbes will be baptized this evening, along with these others who have been saved.”

  On Saturday, May 23, at the Circle C ranch, Jody Claiborne was helping her mother prepare breakfast and was talking excitedly about going riding with Betty Houston that morning.

 

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