The Little Sparrows

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The Little Sparrows Page 17

by Al Lacy


  His eyes fell on Genesis 33:5 again, and the last nine words seemed to stand out like letters of fire against a night sky: “The children which God hath graciously given thy servant.”

  The Scripture reference in the margin next to the verse caught his eye. Psalm 127:3–5.

  Lance turned to Psalm 127 and read the verses:

  Lo, children are an heritage of the Lord: and the fruit of the womb is his reward. As arrows are in the hand of a mighty man; so are children of the youth. Happy is the man that hath his quiver full of them: they shall not be ashamed, but they shall speak with the enemies in the gate.

  Lance shook his head. “Happy is the man that hath his quiver full of them. Lord, I don’t even ask for a full quiver. I’d just like to have at least one.”

  His mind went back to that day not so long ago when he mentioned adopting a child to Carol, and how she was cold to the idea. “Lord,” he said in a whisper, “You know that I love my precious Carol with all of my heart. She is a wonderful wife. I just—well, I just wish she wanted a child in our home like I do.”

  He sighed and flipped back to Genesis 33.

  After reading for some time, Lance closed the Bible and placed it in his briefcase, pondering what he had read in verse 5 of that chapter, and verses 3 through 5 of Psalm 127.

  His attention was drawn to the conductor as he came through the front door of the coach and began dimming the lanterns so the passengers could go to sleep.

  Scooting down on the seat, Lance laid his head back, wishing the train had a Pullman car, and closed his eyes. His thoughts went to Carol, who awaited his return in San Francisco. His heart yearned for her and his arms longed to hold her. “Lord, thank You for giving Carol to me for my life’s mate.”

  And soon he drifted to sleep.

  In the girls’ coach, Rachel Wolford was moving down the aisle toward her seat at the rear. As she came to the seat where Josie Holden and Wanda Stevens were sleeping, she stopped, bent down, and put a soft kiss on the top of Josie’s head. Though Rachel did not know it, the twelve-year-old actually was not asleep. And though her eyes were closed, she knew who was kissing her.

  As Rachel moved on, Josie opened her eyes and smiled. Miss Wolford, she thought, you are the sweetest person I know.

  Josie’s thoughts went to her father, and tears came to her eyes. She moved her lips silently, saying, “Oh, Papa, I miss you so very much! I love you and Mama and my little brother with all of my heart. I always will.”

  She continued weeping, but soon the steady clicking of the wheels beneath her and the sway of the coach lulled her to sleep.

  Upon reaching the rear of the coach, Rachel Wolford had noted that both Laura Stanfield and Tabitha Conlan were asleep. She decided to go into the boys’ coach to make sure all was well.

  In that coach, she found only Derek Conlan awake, and he assured her all was well.

  Satisfied, Rachel returned to the girls’ coach. Before sitting down on the seat she occupied by herself, she looked forward to where she could see Josie Holden’s dark head lying still by the dim light of the lanterns. She sat down and whispered, “Dear Lord, that precious girl has stolen my heart. There has been no indication that she knows You, and I am burdened for her. Please help me to reach Josie for You before someone takes her to be their foster child.”

  Early the next morning, the sponsors moved up and down the aisles calling for the orphans to wake up.

  Most of them came awake slowly, rubbing their eyes and stretching arms and legs, stiffened by their cramped positions through the night.

  In the girls’ coach, Laura, Tabitha, and Rachel moved among the girls, seeing to their personal needs: brushing hair and washing faces.

  Most of the younger ones were nervous and a little confused about what was happening to them. Laura and Tabitha carefully explained the procedure for appearing before the people in the railroad station, doing all they could to calm their fears.

  Some of the younger ones who had been in orphanages started to cry. They were confused as to why they were on the train in the first place, having been taken from the orphanage, which they had known as home. It seemed they all shared one basic emotion: fear of the unknown. They were going to strange places where they would be taken from the railroad stations by strange people. In the orphanage, they had grown close to one another, forming a bond of sorts. And now, they were facing separation.

  The sponsors tried to comfort them and give them hope of a better life and a new family with which to bond.

  The sponsors knew that even the older children were nervous about it all. Everything would be foreign to them. On one hand, they wanted desperately to be chosen and to start a new life in a new home; but on the other hand, they didn’t want to be separated from each other and the “family” that they had considered themselves since being at the Children’s Aid Society headquarters.

  After breakfast, the boys and girls each had a piece of paper pinned on their chests with a number from 1 to 61.

  At 10:15 the train pulled into the Kearney, Nebraska, railroad station. Once the Kearney-bound passengers had left the train, the sixty-one children were taken out of their coaches and lined up on the platform. Though they were nervous, all sixty-one presented themselves well, and the sponsors were proud of them.

  A small number of potential foster parents were waiting to interview the orphans and look them over.

  The other passengers on the train left their coaches to stretch their legs and get some fresh air. A soft breeze was blowing across the Nebraska plains. Most of them were interested in watching the orphan-choosing process and moved up close to look on. Among these was the businessman Lance Adams.

  Nurse Rachel Wolford positioned herself quite near to the spot where Josie Holden and Wanda Stevens were standing together in the line, praying that God would not let anyone take Josie until she had the opportunity to talk with her about being saved and had the joy of leading her to Jesus.

  The Stanfields and the Conlans moved along the line with clipboards and pencils in hand, ready to question the interested couples about themselves and do the paperwork if they qualified to become foster parents.

  Soon two couples showed interest, one in an older boy and the other in an older girl. The couples summoned the sponsors and the questioning began.

  Rachel noticed a couple step up to Wanda Stevens and begin talking to her. She was close enough to hear what was being said, and after a few minutes, it was obvious that they were interested in her.

  Josie had a couple talking to her, but they soon passed on down the line. Rachel heaved a sigh of relief. She noticed that as Josie listened to the conversation between Wanda and the couple, she was picking up on the fact that they were interested in taking Wanda home with them. Josie’s eyes showed the fear she was feeling. She was disturbed about the prospect of losing Wanda to foster parents.

  The man stepped to Tabitha Conlan, who was only a few feet away, and told her they wanted to take Wanda as their foster daughter. Tabitha smiled as she accompanied the man to the spot where his wife stood talking to Wanda.

  Instantly, Rachel began to pray, asking the Lord to help Josie to accept it if she lost Wanda so early in the trip; but most of all, that He would not let anyone take Josie until she had the opportunity to talk with her about salvation.

  A little farther down the line, Lance Adams was standing near the spot where Jimmy Kirkland was positioned next to Johnny Marston. Johnny’s sisters were on his other side.

  While observing the scene, Lance’s heart grew heavy for all the children, whose faces showed the apprehension they were experiencing. He knew that as orphans and street urchins, their lives were already full of sorrow and uncertainty.

  Lance’s attention was soon drawn to a couple that had stopped in front of the small, blond boy.

  “Hi there, little fellow!” said the man, smiling from ear to ear. “My name is Jack Hankins, and this is my wife, Esther.”

  “And what is your name, honey?”
asked Esther.

  The little boy smiled in return. “My n-name ith Jimmy K-Kirkland.”

  Jack and Esther’s smiles vanished as they shot a glance at each other.

  Jack said, “Jimmy, are you talking like that because you’re nervous and afraid?”

  Jimmy shook his head. “N-no, thir. I … I always talk like th-thith.”

  Jack looked at his wife. “Let’s move on, Esther.”

  When they were out of Jimmy’s earshot, Lance heard Esther say, “I couldn’t live with the stuttering or the lisp.”

  “Me, neither,” Jack said.

  Lance felt his heart grow heavy for little Jimmy Kirkland, who had tears in his eyes as he watched the couple walk away.

  Lance watched another couple show interest in the little towheaded boy until they heard him talk. They quickly walked away. Moments later, another couple stopped and began talking to Jimmy. As soon as he responded to them, they walked away discussing the speech impediment, and the woman said, “Ralph, that boy is retarded.”

  Ralph agreed.

  Jimmy was wiping tears.

  At the same moment, a man and his wife, who by their clothing were obviously farmers, stepped up to the three children next to Jimmy. The man said, “Mr. Stanfield told us you three are brother and sisters.”

  The Marston children nodded, and Mary said, “That’s right, sir. My brother’s name is Johnny. My sister’s name is Lizzie. And I’m Mary. What are your names?”

  The man’s eyes twinkled. “I’m Will Banton, and my wife’s name is Leah.”

  Leah smiled. “And what are your ages?”

  Mary swallowed nervously. “Johnny’s six. Lizzie’s four. And I’m eight.”

  As the Bantons asked the Marston children questions about their parents and the home in which they were raised, Lance Adams looked back at little Jimmy Kirkland. Tears were streaming down his cheeks, and he had never seen a more dejected look.

  Jimmy’s head was tilted downward. His lips were quivering and his hands were jammed into his pockets. Nobody will ever want me. I can’t talk right, and I’m too little to be much help to anybody. I’m just no good, I guess. Jimmy’s little body shook as he sobbed.

  Unable to stand it any longer, Lance Adams walked up to the pitiful little boy, bent down to look him in the eye. “Hello, little guy. My name is Lance Adams. I’m from California. And your name is Jimmy Kirkland, right?”

  Jimmy sniffed, wiped tears, and nodded.

  Lance’s heart was so sore for the child; he couldn’t help but wrap his arms around him. Jimmy offered no resistance, but let the man hold him tight.

  “Jimmy, don’t be afraid. Somebody along the line will want to take you home with them.”

  At that instant, Gifford Stanfield drew up. He smiled down at Lance. “Are you interested in taking Jimmy home with you, sir?”

  Lance let go of Jimmy and stood up. He took one of the boy’s hands in his own. “I’m not a resident. My name is Lance Adams. I’m a passenger on the train on my way home to San Francisco.”

  “Oh. I see. I … I thought by the way you were hugging him, you just might want to take him. Sorry for the misunderstanding.”

  Lance grinned. “It’s all right. Jimmy looked so sad by the time three couples had talked to him and passed on down the line. I just wanted to try to cheer him up.”

  Stanfield nodded, and putting the pencil and clipboard in his left hand, offered his right. As their hands met, he said, “I’m Gifford Stanfield. Maybe you’d like to be Jimmy’s foster father, even though you live in San Francisco. The orphans who are left by the time we get there will still need homes. Interested?”

  Lance ran a hand briskly over his mouth. “Ah … no, sir. I wouldn’t be able to do that.”

  Stanfield nodded again. “I see. Well, somebody’s going to get a real nice boy when they take him.”

  Lance let go of Jimmy’s hand and patted him on the head. “I have no doubt about that. He is indeed a fine boy.” He looked down into Jimmy’s teary eyes. “Perk up, little pal. Some nice people will come along and choose you.”

  Jimmy watched the two men walk away together.

  When they were out of earshot from the boy, Stanfield leaned close to Adams and spoke in a whisper. “Just between you and me, Mr. Adams, I think the problem is Jimmy’s speech impediment. Our director, Mr. Brace, told us it might be difficult to find him a home because of it. Most people equate a stutter and a lisp with retardation.”

  “Mm-hmm. I’ve heard that many times before, and one of those couples who stopped to talk to Jimmy, agreed that he was retarded.”

  “Well, you were talking to him. What do you think? Is he retarded?”

  “Not that I can tell. His thinking seems perfectly normal for a child his age. What is he, five?”

  “Exactly. And I agree. Jimmy is not retarded.”

  Someone in the line called for Gifford Stanfield, saying they were interested in one of the teenage boys. He excused himself to Lance Adams. Lance returned to the spot he had occupied before and continued to observe.

  By this time, Will and Leah Banton motioned for Laura Stanfield.

  “Could we talk to you in private, Mrs. Stanfield?” asked Will.

  “Of course.”

  Laura led them a few paces away, so their conversation could not be heard.

  While the Bantons talked to Laura, the Marston trio stood close together. Johnny noted that Jimmy Kirkland was sniffling, and turned to him, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You all right, Jimmy?”

  Jimmy wiped a palm over his wet face. “Mm-hmm. That n-nice m-man thaid thomeone will w-want me.”

  “Well, he was right. It’ll happen, you just wait and see.”

  Johnny turned back to his sisters as they were looking around at the people milling about. Mary had an arm around Lizzie, who obviously was overwhelmed by it all. She leaned into her sister’s side and buried her face in Mary’s dress.

  Mary leaned down and spoke into her ear in her most grownup voice. “Lizzie, honey, stand up straight, now. We have to make a good impression. I think Mr. and Mrs. Banton are talking to Mrs. Stanfield about taking us.”

  Johnny voiced his fear. “But what if they only want one or two of us, Mary?”

  “Yeah,” said Lizzie. “What if they only want you an’ Johnny? What if they don’t want a girl who’s four?”

  “Now, sweetie,” said Mary, “they will want you too.”

  “But what if they don’t? I want to go with you and Johnny. Please, Sissy, don’t let ’em take you an’ Johnny away from me.” Tears had formed in her eyes.

  Mary stroked her little sister’s cheek. “Don’t you worry, Lizzie. We’ll stay together.” She wished she felt as sure as she sounded.

  Johnny was looking at the Bantons as they continued to talk to Laura Stanfield. Mary’s line of sight followed his, and when Lizzie saw it, she looked back at the Bantons.

  At the spot where the Marston children’s attention was focused, Laura Stanfield was asking the Bantons the normal personal questions required by the Children’s Aid Society.

  The Bantons told her they owned a 160-acre farm a few miles north of Kearney and made a good living. They explained that Will was forty years old, and Leah was thirty-eight. She could not bear children. They had wanted children in their home since early in their marriage and were thrilled with the prospect of getting all three of the Marston children at once.

  Laura felt an electric current of excitement flow through her at these words from the Bantons. “Now, I need to ask about alcoholic beverages. Do you folks imbibe?”

  “Absolutely not,” responded Will. “We never touch the stuff. There is no liquor and no wine in our house.”

  “Great!”

  Will said, “Mrs. Stanfield, may I butt in here?”

  “Of course.”

  “Mary and Johnny told us their parents drowned off the coast of Nova Scotia when their ship went down in a storm this past April. Is this so?”

  “Yes, s
ir. It is exactly as they told you. I need to ask you something else. How about your church attendance? Are you members of a Bible-believing church, and if so, do you attend faithfully?”

  Will’s face tinted. He cleared his throat nervously. “We … aren’t members anywhere, and we know we should be. We … ah … really need to change that.”

  “Well, Mr. Brace insists on it. You need to know that from time to time the Children’s Aid Society checks up on children they have placed in homes to make sure all is well. We definitely want the children in church and Sunday school.”

  Will looked at his wife, then at Laura. “I promise, Mrs. Stanfield, we’ll start going to church immediately.”

  Laura smiled. “I’ll take your word for that, Mr. Banton.”

  “We appreciate that, Mrs. Stanfield,” said Leah. “We will have those precious children in Sunday school and church on a regular basis.”

  Satisfied that the Bantons would keep their word, Laura wrote it down on the official papers on the clipboard. “All right,” she said, handing Will the clipboard, “I need both of you to sign at the bottom of this page and the transaction will be done.”

  When Will and Leah had both signed and handed the clipboard back to her, Laura said, “Let’s go tell Mary, Johnny, and Lizzie that they are going home with you.”

  Mary Marston was watching the Bantons and Laura Stanfield. Johnny was talking to Jimmy Kirkland. When Mary saw the Bantons signing something on the clipboard, her heart skipped a beat. They handed it back to Laura and the three of them turned and headed back toward the line. Her heart skipped a beat again.

  Mary prayed, “Dear Lord, please keep us together. Don’t let them take only one or two of us.”

  All three of the adults were smiling broadly as they drew near. Johnny turned from Jimmy and looked up at them. Lizzie’s eyes were wide with curiosity. Mary put an arm around Lizzie’s shoulder, and on the other side, Johnny took Mary’s hand. The three of them presented a picture of determination not to be separated.

 

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