The Little Sparrows

by Al Lacy

  When her weeping had subsided, she laid the note she had written the night before next to her father’s clothing. In the note, she had told Mr. Bailey that she had nowhere to dispose of her father’s belongings, nor her own, and asked if he would do it for her.

  She went to the kitchen and filled a canvas bag with as much food as she could carry in one hand, then set it by the front door of the apartment beside the satchel.

  Before opening the door, Josie took one last look around the apartment that had been her home for so long. Her shoulders slumped as silent tears flooded her vision, then glided down her drawn face and dripped off her chin.

  She wiped away the tears. Squaring her slim shoulders, she opened the door and picked up the satchel in one hand and the canvas bag in the other. She looked up and down the hall to make sure neither of the Baileys was in sight. She took a deep breath. “You can do this, Josie,” she said. “Now go.”

  She closed the door behind her and went down the hall to the back stairs. When she reached the alley, she was thankful that she had not accidentally run into either of the Baileys. Josie reached the end of the alley and told herself she must find her father’s grave before taking to the streets.

  With her heart fluttering in her chest, she moved out onto the street and started the long walk north toward 116th Street.

  Chapter Ten

  After walking for nearly two hours, Josie Holden arrived at the cemetery. She had seen it many times, but had never walked onto the grounds. It was large, and she knew it might take a while to find her father’s grave.

  She passed through the gate and noted the dirt path that was used by hearses, wagons, carriages, and buggies. She made her way along the edge of the path, letting her eyes roam over the grounds as she looked for fresh graves. The cemetery was rich with shade trees that were scattered about, casting their dark shadows on nearby graves. Soon she spotted three fresh graves off to her right and veered across the grass toward them. When she reached the mounds, she read the markers, but none of them bore her father’s name.

  She kept moving, and after a few minutes, she came to an area where she spotted half a dozen fresh graves. While making her way toward them, her attention was drawn to a hearse and a few buggies and carriages that stood on the dirt path. A few yards away, there was a funeral service in progress at an open grave close by.

  When Josie drew up to the mounds, the first grave marker bore the name Curtis Holden.

  She dropped the satchel and canvas bag. Her hand went to her mouth, and suddenly a sea of churning emotions made her tremble. Tears gushed from her eyes as she fell to her knees beside the fresh mound. “Oh, Papa, I miss you terribly! I didn’t want you to die! I’m all alone now. I have to go live on the streets with other children who have no home.”

  She buried her face in her hands.

  At the nearby graveside service, a young woman happened to catch sight of the girl kneeling beside the fresh grave, her body shaking as she sobbed.

  At that moment, the preacher conducting the service closed in prayer. When the young woman lifted her head, she glanced at the sorrowing young girl then quickly made her way to the family of the deceased. She hugged each family member, offering her heartfelt condolences. The young woman stepped to a couple close by. “Wait for me, will you? I’ll be back in a moment.”

  The man nodded. “Of course, Rachel. We’ll be right here.”

  Josie Holden knelt at her father’s grave and heard soft footsteps in the grass behind her. She turned and looked up through her tears to see a lovely young woman in her late twenties standing over her.

  “Hello,” said the young woman. “My name is Rachel Wolford. I was attending the graveside service and I noticed you kneeling beside this fresh grave. What is your name, honey?”

  “Josie Holden.”

  “Can I do anything to help you?”

  Josie sniffed and rose to her feet. “There’s really nothing you can do for me, ma’am. But thank you for offering.”

  Rachel looked down at the simple grave marker, which bore only the name of the deceased. There was no date of birth or death. “Curtis Holden. Was this a relative, Josie?”

  “Yes, ma’am. My father.”

  “Oh, I’m so sorry. How did he die?”

  “He was killed in a work accident at the Brooklyn Bridge last Monday. He worked for the company that’s building the bridge.”

  “Where’s your mother? You shouldn’t be alone like this.”

  Josie sniffed again. “Mama died seven years ago giving birth to a baby boy. My little brother died too.”

  Rachel’s heart was heavy. “Are you living with relatives now?”

  “No, ma’am. I have no relatives. Papa and I lived in an apartment down on Canal Street, and the landlord needed to rent the apartment to someone else, so I left this morning.”

  “So what are your plans? What are you going to do?”

  “I’m going to have to live on the streets like thousands of other children do. As you can see, I have my satchel with some of my clothes, and this canvas bag has food in it. I know the food won’t last long. I’ll have to try to find work like some of the other children do … or beg for food like so many have to.”

  Rachel took a step closer. “Josie, have you ever heard of Charles Loring Brace and the Children’s Aid Society and the orphan trains?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Well, I am a certified medical nurse and I work for Mr. Brace. I travel on the orphan trains to care for the children in case they get sick.”

  “Oh. I didn’t know the orphan trains had nurses on them.”

  Rachel took another step and put her arm around Josie’s shoulder. “If you would like, I could put you on one of those orphan trains. Would you rather go out West and be taken into a foster home, than to live on the New York streets?”

  Josie thought on it a moment. “A foster home out West sounds a whole lot better than trying to stay alive on the streets, Miss Wolford.”

  “All right. I have to leave on an orphan train tomorrow morning. The Children’s Aid Society has rooms in their building where children can stay on a temporary basis while they wait to go west on a scheduled orphan train. They are fed and given clothing suitable for traveling on the trains. Since you want to go out west, I will take you to the Society headquarters right now and get you lined up to go on the first train that has space for you.”

  Josie looked up into Rachel’s eyes. “Oh, thank you, Miss Wolford. Thank you so much for caring about me.”

  “You’re a sweet girl. It isn’t hard to care what happens to you.”

  Josie managed a smile. “Miss Wolford, could I have a minute to tell my papa good-bye?”

  “Of course.”

  Rachel took a few steps back. She watched her kneel beside the grave once more.

  Josie touched the wooden grave marker. “Papa, this nice lady is going to put me on an orphan train so I can find a home somewhere out West. I … I’ve always lived here in New York, and the only thing I know about the West comes from the stories I’ve heard. There are still wild Indians out there and no large cities like I’m used to. Or so I’ve been told. But it will be a fresh start for me, and I think you would want me to do this, Papa, rather than live here on the streets. Maybe some nice family out there in the wide open spaces can use a tomboy like me. I will always try to make you proud.”

  Even though she was a few steps back, Rachel could hear every word.

  Josie rubbed the grave marker lovingly. “Papa, I won’t be able to come and visit you anymore, but I will always carry you in my heart. You will never be out of my thoughts. I love you. I always will.”

  She rose to her feet, picked up the satchel and canvas bag, and looked at Rachel. “All right, ma’am. I’m ready.”

  Rachel said, “Let me carry those for you.”

  “It’s all right, Miss Wolford, they’re not heavy.”

  “How about I carry just one, then?”

  “All right.”r />
  Rachel took the canvas bag and put an arm around the girl. “I have some friends waiting over here. They’ll take us to the Society’s headquarters.”

  Josie put her arm around Rachel, and as they made their way across the grass, weaving their way among the grave markers, Rachel said, “I haven’t asked your age, but I’m guessing you’re going to turn thirteen on your next birthday.”

  Josie smiled up at her. “As Papa would say, Miss Wolford, you hit the nail right on the head.”

  Rachel chuckled. “Sometimes I do that.”

  Josie squeezed her tight with the arm that encircled her waist. She had developed an attachment to Miss Rachel Wolford quickly.

  When Rachel and Josie arrived at the Society’s headquarters, Rachel took her into the office to register her for a room and establish the date she would be put on a train for her trip west.

  Rachel introduced Josie to Mildred Fallon, one of Mr. Brace’s assistants, and as they sat down in front of Mildred’s desk, Rachel told her how she found Josie at the 116th Street Cemetery, then related Josie’s story to her.

  Mildred used a hanky to dab at the tears that had filled her eyes. “Well, Josie, we’re going to see that you find a good home somewhere out West. The next train that is not yet full will leave Grand Central Station on Tuesday morning, June 16. I’m placing you on that train.”

  “Oh, good!” exclaimed Rachel. “That’s the one I’m scheduled on after I make this trip that I’m going on tomorrow.”

  Josie’s eyes lit up. “You mean we’ll be on the same train when I go?”

  “We sure will, sweetie.”

  “I’ll look forward to that!”

  “Me too. We’ll get better acquainted that way.”

  When the papers had been completed, Mildred said, “All right, Josie, I’ll take you to the room where you’ll be staying while you’re here. One thing for sure. You won’t be lonely. There are five other girls in the room. They will be going west on the same train with you.”

  Josie smiled. “Oh, boy! A chance to make new friends!”

  Rachel hugged Josie, saying she had to get to her apartment and make ready to leave on the train tomorrow morning. Josie hugged her tight, kissed her cheek, and thanked her once again for caring about her.

  When Mildred Fallon took Josie Holden into the room where she would be staying, the five girls—ages eleven to fourteen—welcomed her warmly. After Mildred was gone, the girls sat down with Josie and asked about her; why she was going west. Their hearts went out to her while she told them her story.

  Josie then asked to hear their stories. Two of the girls had been recently orphaned, like her. The other three told horror stories of having to live on the New York City streets for the past several years—hungry and dressed in rags. They told of friends who starved to death on the streets, and of others who froze to death during the winters. Josie’s heart went out to them for what they had suffered. Each one then told how she had been found hungry and in tatters by some member of the Children’s Aid Society and brought to their headquarters. One girl told that it was Charles Loring Brace and his wife who had picked her up off the street and brought her to the Society, telling her they would send her out West on one of the orphan trains so she could find a good home.

  The next morning, Rachel Wolford came to the room in her white nurse’s uniform to see Josie before heading to the railroad station. Josie assured her she was fine and told her how much she liked the girls with whom she was rooming.

  As Rachel was about to leave, Josie hugged her. “Miss Wolford, thank you. I love you.”

  “I love you too, Josie.” Rachel then kissed the girl’s forehead and hurried away with tears in her eyes.

  As the days came and went in Cheyenne, Jody Claiborne remained in the coma. The women who had volunteered to stay at the girl’s side during the nights—including Betty Houston—were faithful to do so. Dr. John Traynor personally oversaw his nurses as they fed broth to Jody and gave her water, and he examined her several times a day, watching her vital signs carefully.

  On Wednesday, June 3, Sam and Emma arrived at the clinic just before sundown. Nurse Wilma Harned was at the desk and greeted them. Emma informed her that it was her turn to stay the night with Jody.

  “Bless your heart, Emma. You’ve been so faithful to come here every day and stay by Jody’s side. If I didn’t have to be here on the job every day, I would offer to take your place for the all-night vigils.”

  “That’s sweet of you, Wilma,” said Sam, “but there are other women in our church who have offered to do just that. However, my wife feels she must take her turn at night, too.”

  Dr. Traynor came through the door at the rear of the waiting area. “Hello, Sam, Emma.” He noted that Jody’s parents were clearly showing the strain.

  Sam smiled. “Hello, Doctor. Any change since we were here to see Jody last evening?”

  Traynor shook his head sadly. “No. There hasn’t been the slightest change. I’m sorry.”

  “She’s been in that coma almost two weeks, Dr. Traynor,” said Emma. “Tell us your honest opinion. Do you think Jody will ever come out of it?”

  “Well, with each day that passes, Jody’s chances of ever awakening become slimmer. All we can do is keep praying.”

  Sam nodded. “We will do that. Okay if we go back?”

  “Of course.”

  When Sam and Emma entered Jody’s room, they stepped up beside the bed, their faces grim. Sam took hold of Emma’s hand as they looked down at Jody’s features.

  “She’s losing weight every day, honey,” said Sam.

  Emma nodded and sighed. “I know.”

  Sam let go of Emma’s hand, went to the chair she always occupied, and slid it to the side of the bed. “Here, darlin’. Sit down.”

  When Emma was comfortable, Sam pulled up another chair for himself. They sat side by side, watching for any hint of movement from their daughter, but it did not come. At ten o’clock, Sam said, “Well, honey, guess I’d better head for home.”

  He stood up, took hold of Emma’s hand and Jody’s hand, then led in prayer. When he had finished praying, he leaned down and kissed Jody’s cheek. “Daddy loves his baby girl. Please, sweetheart, come back to us.”

  “Yes, Jody,” said Emma, “please come back to us. We love you so very much.”

  Sam kissed Emma, saying he would be back to get her in the morning, and with a heavy heart, made his way to the door. He paused with his hand on the knob. “Good night, darlin’. I love you.”

  Emma wiped a tear from her eye. “Good night, my precious husband. I love you too.”

  When the door closed, Emma arose from the chair and stood over her beloved daughter. Looking at Jody’s thin features, she said in a low tone, “You’ve been such a blessing, sweetheart. I’ll never forget how happy I was when old Dr. Ben Jones told me I had you in my womb. And how very happy I was the day you were born and I held you in my arms.”

  Emma’s mind flashed back to Wednesday, February 27, 1861. It was a banner day for her. She and Sam had almost despaired of ever being parents. They had prayed earnestly, asking God to give them a child.

  Sam was in the waiting room at Dr. Jones’s office when Emma was being examined. Emma had hoped that she just might be expecting and felt it was time to see what Dr. Jones could find out.

  She pictured the look on his face when he looked down at her as she lay on the examining table and said with a smile, “Emma, your prayers have been answered. You are definitely with child, and should give birth about the last week of September.”

  Having longed to hear this news from the doctor’s lips for what seemed like forever, Emma had said with her heart beating rapidly in her breast, “Are you absolutely sure, Dr. Jones?”

  “Yes, my dear, I am absolutely positive. Now get dressed so you can go out there and tell that husband of yours!”

  The doctor was out of the room while the nurse helped Emma get dressed and returned just as she was ready to go tell th
e joyful news to Sam. Emma surprised the aging physician by planting a kiss on his cheek. He and the nurse watched as she literally floated out the door.

  Standing over Jody’s bed with these sweet memories drifting through her mind, Emma laid a hand on her daughter’s cheek. “Oh, Jody, what a happy woman I was!”

  Remembering once again, Emma recalled that she had enjoyed a fairly easy pregnancy and was delighted with each sign of the baby growing beneath her heart. She and Sam had spent hours planning their future with the child who was already so dear to them.

  Stroking Jody’s pallid cheek, Emma smiled as she remembered their conversation one night in March 1861.

  Sam and Emma sat on the sofa in the parlor of their farmhouse, holding hands. She turned to him and smiled. “I have a very important question to ask you.”

  Sam smiled back. “All right. Fire away.”

  “Do you want a boy or a girl?”

  This time the smile was also in Sam’s voice. “Well, my love, either is fine, ’cause if it’s a girl, I’ll make a tomboy out of her, anyway!”

  “Oh, you will, huh?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Well, that’s all right as long as you let me teach her to be a lady as well.”

  “Oh, of course. But I have a feeling it’s going to be a boy.”

  Emma grinned. “You do, eh? Well, we will just wait and see, won’t we?”

  Emma patted Jody’s face as she stood over the bed. “Sweetheart, the moment your daddy saw you on that day you were born, he wouldn’t have traded you for a million boys.”

  Her mind drifted back through time again. She recalled how the long months seemed to pass so slowly as she eagerly awaited the day she could hold her baby in her arms.

  Then her thoughts fastened on that marvelous day …

  Monday, September 30, 1861, dawned rainy and cold. In the kitchen, Emma stirred up the fire in the cookstove and began her morning routine.