The Little Sparrows

by Al Lacy

  “We’ll be ready, Pastor,” Mary assured him.

  Later, when Frances had tucked the children into their feather beds and gone to her own bedroom, Lizzie snuggled up close to her sister in the darkness. “Mary, if we prayed an’ asked Jesus to let Papa an’ Mama come back from heaven so we could still live in our house next door, He would do it, wouldn’t He?”

  Mary marveled at the sweet innocence and trusting heart of her little sister. She hugged her tight. “Sweetie, there are some things that just can’t happen. Whenever God takes someone to heaven, He keeps them there. He doesn’t let them come back down here. But don’t you worry. God takes care of His little sparrows, remember?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Well, He will take care of us then. You and Johnny and I will always be together.”

  “Okay. Would you hum me a lullaby so I can go to sleep?”

  “Sure.”

  As Mary began humming one of Lizzie’s favorite lullabies, she felt the little body relax, and soon Lizzie was asleep.

  Mary was unaware of it, but Lizzie was dreaming that her parents had come back, and that once again the family was living in the house next door.

  The next morning at just after seven o’clock, the Moores walked the Marston children into the Children’s Aid Society headquarters and approached the first desk they came to.

  Mildred Fallon looked up and smiled. “You must be Pastor and Mrs. Moore.”

  “Yes,” said the pastor.

  “We’ve been expecting you.” Mildred was still smiling as she ran her gaze over the faces of the three orphans. “And this is Mary, John, and Elizabeth Marston.”

  “Right,” said Mary. “But we call my brother Johnny and my sister Lizzie.”

  “All right. Mary, Johnny, and Lizzie, it is. I see you are dressed properly for your trip. You need to say your good-byes to Pastor and Mrs. Moore now so I can take you to the auditorium where the children always gather for their meeting with Mr. Brace before being taken to Grand Central Station.”

  Dora turned to the children. “Well, I want my hugs before we go.”

  “Me too.”

  When it came Lizzie’s turn to hug Pastor Moore, he held her close and kissed her cheek. “I’ll miss you, Lizzie. You are a very special little sparrow.”

  Dora was fighting tears when she and her husband went out the door.

  Mildred led the Marston children toward the auditorium, explaining that the building used to be owned and occupied by the Italian Opera House. Lizzie didn’t know what an Italian Opera House was, but decided she wouldn’t bother to ask.

  When they stepped into the huge auditorium, they saw several of the Society’s staff members moving about, speaking to the children who were clustered in the first few rows of the center section. Mildred led them to the second row, where three seats were unoccupied.

  The children in the area looked at Mary, Johnny, and Lizzie.

  Mildred leaned down close. “Mr. Brace will be here in a few minutes to help you understand all about your train ride and what to expect when you meet the people who are wanting to choose children.”

  Mary nodded. “All right. Thank you, ma’am.”

  Lizzie sat between her brother and sister, and as Mildred Fallon walked away, she took hold of their hands.

  Just behind them, Jimmy Kirkland was seated between a girl and a boy, who were also five years old. As Jimmy was talking to his two friends, the Marston children picked up on his stuttering lisp.

  Johnny leaned past Lizzie and said in a low voice, “Mary, that little boy talks funny.”

  Mary frowned. “He can’t help it, Johnny. It would be very impolite to ever say anything to him about it.”

  “Oh, I would never do that.”

  Four rows back, Josie Holden was sitting with the girls who had been her roommates since she came to the Society. Suddenly she spotted the nurse who had brought her there. She hadn’t seen Miss Wolford since she had left to ride the orphan train the last time.

  Josie jumped up and said to her friends, “There’s Miss Wolford! Be back in a minute!”

  Rachel had come into the auditorium from a rear door at the back of the stage and spotted Josie the instant she stepped into the aisle. She smiled and opened her arms as she hurried to meet up with Josie.

  When the two of them came together, they embraced, then easing back in each other’s arms, their eyes met.

  “Honey, how are you?” asked Rachel.

  “I’m fine, Miss Wolford. And even better now that you’re here. Are you still going to be the nurse on our train?”

  “I sure am. It’s almost seven-thirty. Mr. Brace will be here any minute. You’d better take your seat. I’ll see you on the train, if not before.”

  Josie hugged her again and hurried back to her friends.

  The staff members who were going to be on the train were mounting the steps to the stage when everyone saw the small frame of Charles Loring Brace come onto the stage from a side door. The staff quickly sat down on the wooden chairs that were clustered in a group a few feet behind the rostrum.

  Brace was smiling as he stepped onto the rostrum. “Good morning!”

  Children and staff answered in a chorus of good mornings.

  Brace looked down at the children in the seats before him. “Looks like we’ve got all sixty-one of our passengers here.” He looked back at the staff. “Anyone missing?”

  “They’re all here, sir,” one of the men told him.

  Turning back to look at the children, Brace said, “I hope all of you will enjoy your trip west. Now let me explain the rules you will abide by once you are on the train.”

  When he had gone over the rules, Brace explained the procedure that would be followed in the railroad stations when the prospective foster parents would file by them, looking them over and asking them questions. When that was done, he smiled at them. “How many of you have never traveled on a train before?”

  The majority raised their hands.

  “Well, this will be a new experience for most of you. I want to introduce you to the ladies and gentlemen who will be your sponsors and chaperones on the trip.”

  This was the cue for the staff behind him to step forward and line up at the edge of the stage.

  Brace gestured toward them. “I will introduce them in the order they are standing in line. First are Mr. Gifford Stanfield and his wife, Laura. Next are Mr. Derek Conlan and his wife, Tabitha. There are two coaches for the orphans in the train. One for the boys and one for the girls. Mr. Stanfield and Mr. Conlan will be riding in the boys’ coach, and their wives will be riding in the girls’ coach. The two coaches will be connected at the rear of the train just ahead of the caboose. The girls’ coach will be ahead of the boys’ coach. Ladies first, you know.”

  Laughter swept over the group.

  “I want all of you to understand that there will be Bible reading and prayer twice a day in both coaches, as is done here at the Society. And I want to make sure all of you understand that you are to obey your sponsors at all times. Now, let me introduce someone else—this lady in the white uniform. This is Miss Rachel Wolford. She is a certified medical nurse and will be traveling with you in case any of you should become ill on the trip. Miss Wolford will be riding in the girl’s coach.”

  Rachel let her eyes settle on Josie Holden, and found Josie smiling at her and clapping her hands silently.

  Charles Brace then explained that the train would have other coaches that carried passengers as usual. He pointed out that the train would be stopping at Cleveland, Chicago, Des Moines, and Omaha, before the first stop where people would be prepared to choose orphans. This would happen at Kearney, Nebraska. At each stop after that, people were expecting the orphan train—Cheyenne, Wyoming; Rawlins, Wyoming; Austin, Nevada; Reno, Nevada; Sacramento, California; and finally, San Francisco, California.

  “Now let me say this, boys and girls. Please don’t get discouraged if you are passed over time and again. It usually takes the enti
re trip for us to see all of the orphans chosen by prospective foster parents. Now, if any of you have not been chosen by the time the people in San Francisco have looked you over and talked to you, you will be brought back to New York, and after some time passes, you will be put on another train. The process will continue until every child has been chosen. We’ve had very few times that children have been brought back here to start over again. And on the second trip, those children have been chosen.”

  Brace then led in prayer, asking God to give safety to the children, their chaperones, and their nurse on the trip.

  The children were then escorted outside, where six wagons waited to carry them to Grand Central Station. When they arrived at the station, the five adults led them to the track where the train was parked that would be taking them west.

  The children who had never ridden on a train stared wide-eyed at the engine that was heaving steam from its bowels. Their eyes ran to the coal car, baggage coach, three regular coaches, two that were set aside for the orphans, and the caboose.

  The five adults were kept busy quieting the fearful hearts of some of them, assuring them that it was quite safe to travel in the giant vehicle.

  Once on board, the boys and girls crowded up to the windows of their respective coaches to observe the crowds of people, including those who were boarding other coaches in their train.

  At ten o’clock sharp, the orphan train pulled out of Grand Central Station and headed west.

  On Wednesday morning, June 17, at Chicago’s Union Station, a carriage bearing two men rolled into the parking lot.

  Thirty-five-year-old Lance Adams hopped out, turned, and picked up his briefcase.

  The man at the reins, sixty-year-old Harold Fremont, eased out a little slower and tied the reins to the hitching post.

  Adams set his eyes on the gray-headed Fremont. “Really, Harold, you don’t have to walk me in and wait till my train leaves.”

  Fremont shook his head. “Oh, but I’m getting to know you, Lance. When I met you at the businessmen’s convention, I told myself that I can learn from a man your age who owns the largest department store in San Francisco. My store here in Chicago isn’t half the size of yours. And when you were introduced before you spoke to the convention, and I learned that you didn’t inherit some large sum of money but started at the bottom and rose to where you are now, I said to myself, ‘Harold, offer to take that young genius to the depot when he heads back to California. You can learn something from him.’ ”

  Lance grinned as they headed into the depot. “Harold, let me give you the truth of the matter of my success.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “My success has come because the Lord helped me. The glory goes to the God of heaven. He has blessed me in a marvelous way.”

  “I got that impression when you gave your testimony at the convention on Monday morning. It was a joy to find out that you were my brother in Christ. I can tell you really love the Lord.”

  “I sure do. Jesus saved me when I was twenty-one years old at a revival meeting, and my life has been wonderful ever since. It hasn’t been without trials and troubles, but the Lord has seen me through them all, and I’m confident He will do so in the future. My greatest blessing since being saved is the fine Christian wife God gave me when I was twenty-four. Carol is the most wonderful Christian woman in all the world. The most beautiful one, too.”

  They passed through the door into the terminal.

  “I appreciate your feeling that way about your wife, Lance, but actually my wife, Bertha, is the most wonderful Christian woman in the world and the most beautiful, too.”

  They agreed that they both should feel that way about their wives.

  Harold gestured toward the large chalkboard in the main part of the station. “Let’s check and see if your train is leaving on time.”

  They drew up, and Lance said, “Yep. It’s going to arrive on time, and it will leave on time.”

  They walked to the track where the train from New York’s Grand Central Station would be coming in and sat down on one of the benches.

  While they were waiting for the train to arrive, Harold Fremont asked question after question to learn all he could about Lance Adams’s successful business practices. Soon the train chugged in and squealed to a halt.

  Harold thanked Lance for all the excellent information, then frowned as he pointed to the last two coaches. “Look there, Lance. Those two coaches are loaded with children: boys in one and girls in the other. There’s nothing but young faces at the windows. Why would those two coaches be filled with children?”

  “I don’t have any idea. That’s strange, isn’t it? I wonder—Wait a minute! I know what that is. It’s one of those orphan trains I’ve read about.”

  “Oh yeah! I’ve read about those too. This is the first time I’ve ever seen one. Just look at all those innocent faces.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Lance Adams and Harold Fremont stayed on the bench while the Chicago-bound passengers were getting off the train.

  Harold pointed at the girls’ coach. “See that little blonde in the second window from the front? The one with the red hair bow?”

  “Uh-huh. She’s a doll. ’Bout five years old, I’d say. What about her?”

  “She reminds me of one of my granddaughters when she was that age. She’s seventeen now, but that little girl sure looks like her.”

  “How many grandchildren do you have, Harold?”

  “Six. Three boys. Three girls. I have two daughters and one son. One daughter-in-law. Two sons-in-law. You have any children, Lance?”

  “Ah … no. Carol had to have a hysterectomy when she was seventeen. Before we even met.”

  “Oh. I’m sorry.”

  “It was tough on her. When we met and found ourselves falling in love, she told me she could never have children, then explained about the hysterectomy. I told her I knew she was the one God had chosen to be my wife and asked her at that moment if she would marry me. She was so overwhelmed at my attitude, it took her a full minute to get hold of herself enough to accept my proposal.”

  “She sounds like a fine young lady.”

  “That she is.”

  Harold’s eyes went to the orphans in the two coaches. “Have you considered adopting a child?”

  Lance’s mind flashed back to a day a few months previously when he had mentioned the idea of adopting a child to Carol. She seemed cold to the idea. By the few words she spoke, Lance figured that Carol felt if she couldn’t bear a child, an adopted child would not fulfill her need as a mother. He cleared his throat gently. “We’ve … ah … talked about it some, but at this point, I guess we’re just not ready.”

  “I see. Well, children are a blessing. I hope someday you will adopt one, or even more than one. Otherwise you’ll never have any grandchildren, and believe me, you don’t want to miss out on that.”

  At that instant, the conductor yelled, “All abo-o-oard! All abo-o-oard!”

  Lance stood up. “Well, Harold, the man is telling me to get on the train.”

  The bell on the engine began to clang.

  Harold rose to his feet and they shook hands, telling each other good-bye. Lance picked up his briefcase and hurriedly boarded the coach just ahead of the orphan girls’ coach. He found an empty seat, and sat down next to the window. He saw Harold Fremont standing close to the coach, looking at him. Harold smiled, waved, then turned and walked away.

  As Lance placed his briefcase on the floor next to his feet, he heard other passengers around him talking about the orphans in the last two coaches. Soon the engine whistle sounded, and the train rolled out of the station.

  In the boys’ coach, little Jimmy Kirkland was alone on his seat as he turned around and rose up on his knees. Smiling at the two six-year-old boys in the seat behind him, he said, “W-won’t b-be l-long, now! P-pretty thoon we’ll b-be out w-wetht, an’ I’m gonna have a m-mama an’ a p-papa! I c-c’n hardly w-wait to thee who ch-chootheth me!”
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  Jimmy wiped a hand over his mouth, removing the saliva that always appeared on his lips when he spoke.

  One of the boys laughed gleefully. “I’m excited about who’s gonna choose me too, Jimmy!”

  “Me too!” said the other boy. “I sure hope the people who choose me will be farmers! I saw some farms one time when my parents took me all the way up to Buffalo. I really like horses and cows. I wanna be a farmer!”

  On the seat directly across the aisle from the six-year-olds were two twelve-year-old boys, who had already been teasing Jimmy about his speech impediment. Jason Laird elbowed Rick Schindler with a grin, then looked at Jimmy. “Hey, Jimmy! Nobody’s gonna choose you! They wouldn’t wanna listen to all that stutterin’ and lisp all the time!”

  Rick Schindler laughed. “Yeah, retard! And they wouldn’t wanna clean up that spit all the time, either!”

  Jimmy’s features twisted up and tears filled his eyes.

  “Hah!” Jason laughed. “The lame brain retard’s cryin’, now!”

  Jimmy broke into sobs and buried his face in his hands.

  Three seats behind Jason and Rick sat a muscular fifteen-year-old boy named Barry Chandler. His eyes riveted to the backs of their heads. As he stood up in the aisle, he was unaware that Derek Conlan and Gifford Stanfield were entering the coach from the rear door.

  Barry moved up to the spot where Jason and Rick sat, laughing, and when they looked up and saw his burning eyes, the laughter died on their lips. Every eye in the coach was on Barry as he leaned down, putting his face close their faces. “You two leave the little guy alone! Do your hear me? I’m not going to put up with it!”

  Conlan and Stanfield looked at each other, then hurried down the aisle. As they drew up, Derek Conlan ran his gaze between Barry and the two on the seat. “What’s going on here?”

  Barry set his jaw. “These two are picking on Jimmy about his speech impediment again.”