Circle of Love

by Joan Lowery Nixon

  "That's not true," Frances said. "I brought Stefan back to New York City because his aimt and uncle came to the United States and asked for him soon after his orphan train left for Kansas."

  "He had family," Daisy said in wonder. "A real family."

  "I have a mother," Frances told Daisy. "I love her

  very much, and she loves me. But I also have a foster mother and father, who took me in when I was thirteen and raised me as though I were a child of their own. A family doesn't have to be a mother and father and a child to whom they've given birth."

  *Then what i& a faniily?" Daisy asked.

  Frances thought a moment before she answered. "A family is a circle of love," she said.

  "Love?" Lucy echoed.

  Frances smiled. 'That's right Love given and love returned."

  Lucy smiled and hugged her doll. "Did you hear that, Baby? Love is a circle," she said.

  As the train came to a stop, Frances could see a swarm of people outside, most of them staring at the train as though they were trying to see through the windows. A tall, broad-shouldered man strode toward the train, heading for their car.

  The conductor opened the door and ran down the steps with his stool, but the tall man stopped him. Bounding up the steps, he entered the car, swept off his wide-brimmed hat, and spoke to Frances.

  "Ma'am," he said, "I'm Sheriff Malloy. 1 take it you are Miss Frances Kelly and you have a boy here in your care named Eddie Marsh?"

  "Yes," Frances answered. As Eddie stood trembling, clutching the back of the seat ahead of him for support, Frances automatically stood protectively between him and the sheriff.

  "Eddie hasn't done anything he shouldn't," Frances said firmly. "I can vouch for him."

  The sheriff smiled. "I didn't mean to rile you. I shoulda said right off that I came to thank Eddie for the information he gave the telegraph operator. That was smart of you, Eddie. We got our robbers—^three

  of them, that is—afore they hit the bank, and we got the Gladneys' money and jewelry back."

  Solemnly he shook Eddie's hand.

  "Hip, hip, hooray for Eddie!" Sam shouted, but only a few of the children joined him. Most of them stared at the sheriff or at the people on the train platform who excitedly peered through the windows at them.

  Frances cheered for Eddie, but as soon as she had the chance she asked the sheriff, "Which of the Con-nally brothers got away?"

  "The one who rode the train," the sheriff said. He quickly added, "But don't worry. We've got men out lookin' for him. We'll soon round him up."

  "Poor Seth," Frances murmured to herself. She knew Seth was deeply troubled. Would he ever get the chance to redeem himself?

  "Are you all right, ma'am?" Sheriff Malloy asked. "You look kinda pale. It's hot here, even for July. Is the heat botherin' you?"

  Frances took a deep breath, willing Seth out of her mind. "I'm all right," she said. "But I would like to ask a favor of you. Will you escort us, please, as we march to the Methodist church?"

  "I'll be happy to, ma'am," the sheriff said.

  Frances turned to the children. "Pick up your luggage, boys and girls. We'll leave this train and walk two blocks to the place where we'll meet the people who have come to see you. Come on, now. Remember . . . you're wonderful children, and I'm very, very proud of you. The families who'll get you will be lucky, so hold your heads high and smile."

  As Frances climbed down the steps of the car she felt a strong pull at one side of her skirt. Caroline pressed so closely that Frances nearly stumbled.

  Reaching down tx) stroke Caroline's hair, Frances said, "You're safe with me, love. Don't be afraid."

  Caroline raised her head and surveyed the platform. "I looked and looked, but I don't see him," she whispered

  Frances knew that Caroline meant her father. "Take my hand,^' she said, and pulled Caroline to a position at her side. "We're going to meet the people who have come to find children to love."

  The sheriff easily cleared a path through the bystanders on the platform, but two women spoke loudly, and Frances could hear their remarks.

  "Look at them little waifs."

  "I heard that some of them was left on doorsteps. Never had a proper father."

  "And some are picked up right off the streets of New York City!"

  "Um-hum. And passed off as being proper as you and me, but we both know that living on the streets the way they did, they've got to be little criminals."

  "Maybe not all of them. Look at that little girl. Don't she look sweet and pretty?"

  'That little boy, too. Cute as a bug. But that big girt, now. You can't say she'd take a beauty prize."

  A gentleman in a high collar asked the man next to him, "Which one of the children was the boy who saved the bank?"

  "It's gotta be that one who's smiling and waving at us. He's not shy at taking his bows. He heard you ask about him, I reckon."

  "Did the bank manager give the boy a reward?"

  "Reward? Why should the boy get a reward? He's only a child."

  There was a great deal Frances would have liked to say to these busybodies, but she held her tongue

  and marched briskly past them down a dusty street to the Methodist church.

  She led the children past the seventy or eighty people who crowded the room, to a raised platform on which three rows of stools had been arranged. A stout middle-aged woman stepped up next to Frances and pointed to three people seated in chairs at the side of the room. "I'm Mrs. Judson, and that's my committee," she said. "We know most of the people aroimd these parts, which is why the Society asked us to serve. If you have any questions about anyone who wants to take in a child, you just ask us."

  "Thank you," Frances said.

  She seated the smaller children in front, the larger in back. When the children were ready, the sheriff raised his voice, so that it boomed against the back waU. "Quiet down," he bellowed. "Listen to what Miss Kelly has to say."

  Frances looked at the many faces, and for a moment she was thirteen again, studying the crowd, looking for expressions of kindness and laugh lines and smiles, hoping that she and her brothers and sisters would find happy homes. Her heart beat faster, and she had to will herself to calm down.

  She cleared her throat and began, as she'd been told to do, by explaining a little about the Children's Aid Society and what it hoped to accomplish with the placing-out program. She went over the rules about treating each child like one of the family and making sure he or she was schooled and taken to church through the age of fourteen—just in case the onlookers hadn't paid attention to the advertisements that had been sent out.

  Then she introduced each child in turn, giving only names and ages.

  Finally she invited the people to visit the stage and become acquainted with the children. "I hope there will be many of you here who will come to me and arrange to take a child," she said.

  A buzz like that from a busy beehive filled the room as husbands and wives looked over the children and discussed them with each other. A young woman, her hat askew, ran to the stage and held out her arms to Lizzie.

  "Mama?" Lizzie asked, and went right into the woman's arms.

  "Oh, you precious child! You have to be ours!" the woman said as ^e hugged Lizzie.

  "If you*d like to make arrangements to take her—" Frances began, but the woman didn't let her finish the sentence.

  "We would! Oh, we would! Look at those beautiful eyes. She's so much like our own little girl would have been." She lowered her voice and said, "We lost our baby last year." The woman refused to let go of Lizzie for even a moment, even to let her husband hold her.

  Another woman stepped up behind her. "Fm Mrs. Howard Smith," she said. "My husband and I also came to get a little girl. The two-year-old may be spoken for, but what about that pretty child you called Nelly? She's a darling. 1 tried to get her to come to me, but her brother won't let go of her."

  "His name is George," Frances said. "And Nelly's other brother is Earl. They
're hoping that someone will want to adopt the three of them together."

  The woman gasped. 'Three? It's not likely anyone could afford to take three children."

  'They don't want to be separated," Frances said.

  "It's up to you to make the decision, isn't it, and

  not them?" the woman asked. "My husband and I raised five boys. Now we'd love to have a little girl. We'd be good to her and school her, and take her to church on Sundays, just like you said."

  "Let me have a minute to talk to the children," Frances said, but before she walked over to George, she stopped to speak to the committee members, who sat in chairs at the side of the room.

  "What do you know about Mr. and Mrs. Howard Smith?" she asked.

  A bald man pursed his lips and nodded. "Good people," he said. "Raised a passel of boys, none of whom went bad. One son read the law and set up his practice down in St. Louis. Another's working at the store with Howard."

  "They want Nelly Babcock," Frances explained. "If they take Nelly, it will separate her from her two brothers. They all hoped to stay together."

  One of the committee members rolled her eyes. "Wouldn't children ask for the moon, if they thought they could get it!"

  Mrs. Judson smiled sympathetically at Frances. "We went through this last year. It's a hard job to find homes for large groups of children. I'm always saddened when we have to put some of them on the next train," She glanced at Mrs. Smith, who stood where Frances had left her. "I've known Rose Smith for years. She's a good woman, and she's always wanted a Uttle girl."

  Frances sighed and said, "Thank you. I'll take your advice." With an aching heart she explained to George and Earl, "I can't take the chance on finding people who'd be able to adopt three children. I was told that the Smiths would be very good to Nelly and give her a happy home."

  Earl's face was drained of color. "Will we be able to visit Nelly? Can we see her often?"

  "I don't know," Frances said. Tears were streaming down George's cheeks. Nelly patted Greorge's face and looked puzzled.

  "Why you crying?" Nelly asked.

  George's defenses broke down completely, and he began to sob.

  Frances wrapped her arms around all three children. She knew how much sorrow they were feeling. But she also knew that this could be Nelly's only chance to find a loving family. "I'll give you the Smiths' address so that you can write to Nelly," she told the boys.

  Giving them time to say goodbye to their little sister and steeling herself to their heartbroken tears, Frances reluctantly took Nelly from George and carried her to Mrs. Smith.

  Mrs. Smith's smile lit the room. "Oh, darling Nelly, you're going to be mine!" she cried, but Nelly, realizing what was happening, stretched out her arms to her brothers and began to wail at the top of her lungs.

  Frances, forcing back her own tears, handed out papers to a number of eager foster parents, but occasionally there was an eruption of tears on the stage, and she hurried to try to solve the problems.

  "Nobody picked me!" Margaret sobbed. She clutched her rabbit tightly.

  ^They've just begun meeting the children," Frances told her. She pulled out a handkerchief and wiped Margaret's eyes. "Smile," Frances said. "You're such a dear girl, when people see that happy smile, someone is bound to want you."

  Frances paused. At the back of the stage Eddie was entertaining a group of fascinated listeners by

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  acting out the exploits on the train. "So there stood the robber, with his gun pointed straight at me," Eddie said. He raised and pointed an imaginary handgun at a woman, who gave a little jump and squealed. "But he wasn't going to get the best of me—^not Eddie Marsh, who knew his way around the streets of New York City from the time he learned to walk."

  Chuckling at Eddie's performance, Frances walked on.

  Although many of the children were surrounded by smiling or curious adults, Aggie sat miserably alone on her stool at one side of the stage. With an aching heart Frances saw Aggie glance hopefully at two of the couples who came near, but none of them approached her.

  Frances started toward Aggie, but a middle-aged couple imwittingly stepped in front of her. They stopped next to Aggie and examined her as though she were a bolt of cloth.

  "She's a strapping big girl," the woman said to her husband. "She's not much to look at, and that red hair's a sight, but I'm sure she can handle plenty of hard work."

  The woman suddenly took Aggie's upper aim in her roughened hands and squeezed the muscle.

  Her face mottled red with anger, Aggie jerked her arm away. "Don't touch me!" she shouted at the woman.

  "Well, I never!" the woman exclaimed. "Hard worker or not, I don't want a rude child like you!"

  As the woman and her husband stomped off the stage, Frances put an arm around Aggie's shoulders. "Pay no attention to people like that," she said.

  "I don't want to go with them," Aggie insisted.

  "You don't have to," Frances told her.

  "I—I don*t want tx) be kitchen help. I want somebody to love me."

  "Somebody wUl."

  Aggie seemed to shrink inside herself. "Maybe Mrs. Marchlander was right Maybe no one can love me.

  "Aggie, dear^ forget Mrs. Marchlander. She was wrong," Frances said. "Forget these people who were rude to you. I wouldn't have let you go with them in any case. You weren't sent here to be an unpaid worker. You were sent to be part of a loving family. Look for the family who'll choose you. If you see people coming to talk to you, smile at them. I know you must have a beautiful smile."

  "Smile just so they'll choose me? That's like begging. 1 can't do that! I can't!"

  *Then smile because you'd choose them. Can you try?"

  Aggie lifted a woebegone face to Frances. "I guess I can try," she said.

  Frances was needed to help a young couple fill out papers for Philip, so she left Aggie, hoping for the best.

  Caroline Jane went willingly with a pleasant young man and woman. She tugged at Frances's skirt and whispered, "They'll take care of me, and my father won't be able to find me, will he?"

  Frances knelt and put her arms around the little girl. "You'll have a new life with people who'll love you. Try to forget the unhappiness of your old life. Will you?"

  Caroline nodded agreement, but tears rolled down her cheeks. Frances kissed her goodbye, tears blurring her own eyes. Were Caroline's fears real? Would

  her father try to find her? Frances hoped and prayed that only the best would come to this frightened child.

  Margaret bounced up and down as she said goodbye to Frances. "Someone did want me after all!" she exclaimed. She clung to the hand of her new foster mother, smiling as though all her wishes had been answered.

  Frances said one goodbye after another, each time hoping that the right decision had been made and both the child and the foster parents would be happy. But how can we really know what lies ahead for these children? she asked herself. All we can do is hope for the best

  Finally the room had cleared of the people who had come either to take a child or to gawk. Frances asked Mrs. Judson to go through the papers so that Frances could make sure the information was complete and accurate. Seventeen of the thirty children had been chosen. "Thanks be that Emily Jean and Harriet Averill are going to the same family," Frances said to Mrs. Judson.

  Mrs. Judson ran her finger down the list she'd drawn up. "Nelly Babcock and Lizzie Schultz—^the babies and toddlers are always chosen first. Philip Emery, he's just four and cute as a button. He was bound to be a first choice. Next we've got Frank Fischer, David Howard, WiD Scott, Marcus Melo, and Sam Meyer, which is no surprise. Farmers need boys who can help with the heavy chores."

  Frances felt a stab of concern. How well she remembered Mike's terrible treatment at the hands of Mr. Friedrich! She said, "Mrs. Judson, you vouched for the people who chose the boys. You said you

  knew them. They'll be good to the boys, won't they? Surely they didn't come here just to get
free farm labor?"

  Mrs. Judson looked solemnly at Frances. "Have you ever lived on a farm?"

  "Yes," Frances .answered.

  "Then you khow the hard work that's involved. Rise before dawn and work until after dark. Every member of the family pitches in." She relaxed, patting Frances's hand. *The people who chose the boys are all good people. They won't abuse the boys. They'll treat them like their own children."

  Frances nodded.

  "By the way. Will won't live on a farm," Mrs. Judson said. *The couple who picked him—Sara and Otto Wallace—raised eight boys, all of them grown or off to school, and they're lonely. Otto is a well-respected doctor in a nearby town. Will may eat plenty of chicken, because sometimes the only way people can pay their doctor bills is with chickens or eggs, but he'll have a happy life."

  Mrs. Judson went on with her list "Caroline Jane Whittaker, Margaret di C2^o, Mary Beth Lansdown, Nicola Boschetti, Lottie Duncan, Alexander Hanna, Virginia Hooper—" She stopped and smiled. *That Virginia's a caution. I heard her tell her foster parents that she's really a princess who was switched with another child at birth. Well, knowing the Johnsons and how much they wanted a Uttle girl, theyll undoubtedly treat her like a princess."

  Frances thanked Mrs. Judson and her committee members, then gathered the children who were left

  Eddie sidled up to Frances, a worried look in his eyes. "I was a hero back at the train," he said, "but I guess no one was lookin' for a hero. I heard two peo-

  pie say they wanted a quieter, more well-behaved child, not a lad of the streets like me."

  Frances smoothed back Eddie's hair from his forehead. Such a tough boy, but with such open, vulnerable eyes. Eddie reminded her so much of Mike when he was young. "WeVe got two more stops," she said. "You'll have a family soon."

  But Eddie's confidence was ebbing, she could tell. "The lads back home would have been proud of me," he said.

  "And rightly so. Fm proud of you, too," Frances told him.

  Mrs. Judson stepped up to Frances and waved a list "Here's where the remaining children will be put up for the night. These are all good people who'll feed them supper and breakfast and have them at the station tomorrow morning in plenty of time to catch the train."