The Little Sparrows (4 page)

The remaining boys and girls, their heads hanging low, shuffled back aboard the waiting train. Two of the younger girls were crying because they had not been chosen, and one of the teenage girls was trying to comfort them.

Sam set a hand on Jody’s shoulder. “Well, honey, we’d better be going. Your mother is expecting us for lunch in just a little while.”

“Daddy, I feel so sorry for those poor children.”

“I do too, honey.”

She took hold of her father’s hand and looked up at him with tender eyes. “I’m so thankful I have you and Mommy and my Christian home.”

Sam and Jody reached their horses and mounted up. They put them into motion and soon they were out of town, heading due north.

As they trotted along the road side by side, Jody was unusually quiet. Sam knew she had been touched by the plight of the orphan children, and being so tenderhearted, she couldn’t get them out of her mind. He decided not to interrupt her thoughts.

Emma Claiborne was busy in the kitchen, expecting Sam and Jody to arrive any minute. She had baked fresh bread and made roast beef sandwiches from last night’s leftovers. They also had wedges of cheese and dishes of canned peaches.

As she was sliding the hissing teapot to the back of the stove, she heard the sound of hoofbeats and looked out the kitchen’s side window. Sam and Jody both waved at her, and she called through the open window, “Lunch is ready!”

Father and daughter smiled and veered their mounts toward the back porch. Emma went to the door, opened it, and watched as Sam and Jody dismounted. Sam took the canvas bag containing the groceries from behind Jody’s saddle, and they mounted the porch steps together.

Jody moved ahead of him and kissed her mother’s cheek. “Hello, Mommy. I sure do love you.”

Emma smiled and kissed her daughter’s cheek in return. “I sure do love you too.”

While Jody crossed the back porch and entered the kitchen, Sam paused to kiss his wife. Emma preceded him through the door, asking over her shoulder how his meeting with the bank president went.

“Went just fine, honey,” he replied, setting the canvas bag on the cupboard. “I’ll give you the details while we eat lunch.”

“Okay. You two get washed up while I pour the tea.”

Moments later, the Claibornes sat down to the table. Sam led in prayer, thanking the Lord for the food, and they began eating.

While Sam was telling Emma the details of his meeting with bank president Lyle Wilson, she noticed that Jody seemed preoccupied and was only nibbling at her food.

When Sam finished his story, Emma commented, “Well, I’m glad Mr. Wilson saw it your way, honey. That will help us a great deal.” She then put her attention back on Jody. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong? You’ve hardly touched your sandwich, and roast beef is your favorite.”

Jody met her mother’s gaze. “When Daddy and I were in town, we saw one of those orphan trains, Mommy. Those poor little children. I feel so sorry for them.”

“Hap and Margie were there, honey,” said Sam. “They chose two little girls and took them home.”

Emma’s eyes brightened. “Really? Well, I’m so glad for them. You remember that I told you Margie came by to see me last Tuesday. You were out at the barn. Jody was out riding with Betty.”

Sam nodded.

“I forgot to tell both of you that Betty’s doctor told her she should never try to have another baby.”

“I sort of figured that might be the case,” said Sam. “And let me tell you something our sweet daughter did.”

Emma listened while Sam told her how the Lakins were only going to take the older sister, and of the love and compassion Jody had shown the little one before the Lakins decided to take her too.

Emma commended Jody for this. “But, honey, you shouldn’t let that little episode keep you from eating your lunch.”

“It’s not just that, Mommy,” Jody said. “I just can’t get those children out of my mind. Especially the little ones. They just look so sad. I … I just hope they all find a wonderful home like I have.”

She sniffed and wiped away a tear that was forming at the corner of her eye. “Mommy, some of them were so scared. Even some of those who were my age. I can’t even imagine what their lives must have been like back there in New York. I’m so sheltered, cared for, and loved. It would be a wonderful world if every child could have what I have.”

Emma left her chair, moved around to Jody, and planted a soft kiss on her dark hair. “God has been so good to give us such a precious daughter.”

Sam sighed. “That He has, honey. That He has.”

Emma sat down again while Jody said, “Daddy, how and when did these orphan trains get started?”

Sam told her the story of Charles Loring Brace and how he started the Children’s Aid Society in the mid-1850s.

“You see, honey,” Sam went on, “in the early days of this century, this country began to change in its eastern states from a country in which the greater part of the population lived in rural areas, to an industrial nation with cities on the grow. Farm machines were being invented that replaced workers on the farms. At the same time, factories were being built that put those people to work. Lots of jobs were opening up.”

“Right,” put in Emma. “I’ve read the newspaper accounts about it, too. That’s why the immigrants from all over Europe began coming to America. Hundreds of thousands of them.”

Jody nodded.

“Of course this brought on a problem,” said Sam. “The cities were growing by leaps and bounds, and there was not enough housing for everyone. Many of the factory workers—both Americans and immigrants—had large families. Great numbers of them were jammed into tiny apartments that had to be shared with two or three other families. Some families even lived in the alleys in cardboard boxes.

“People who worked in factories and other kinds of jobs often worked ten to twelve hours a day, six days a week. Wages were low, and even with the men working such long hours, many parents could barely feed and clothe themselves and their children.”

“And even the children often had to work, Jody,” said Emma. “Many of them, as young as five and six years of age, labored long hours in factories, earning only pennies a day.”

Sam nodded. “That’s right. Other children took to the streets and did what they could to earn money to live on. Others, barely old enough to walk, begged for food and money on the streets.”

Jody moved her head slowly, her green eyes wide. “We’re so fortunate to live here in the West and have this ranch that makes us a good living.”

“That’s for sure, honey,” said Emma. “The Lord has been so good to us.”

“In that newspaper I read last week, Jody,” said Sam, “it said even when every member of a family worked, many families still could not make enough money to survive. Many adults and children starved to death. Lots of adults died as alcoholics. Others went insane. Sometimes parents were so upset at the birth of a child that they would abandon the newborn in a church, a store, or a hospital, hoping someone would take the baby and care for it.”

“Yes,” said Emma, “and there were other parents who didn’t even make that effort. Almost every day, the New York police would find the bodies of infants who had been left to die in rain barrels or trash cans. In other families, the parents forced older children to leave the home to make space for a new baby. Sometimes the children who were sent away were no more than six or seven years of age. These children had nowhere to go but to the streets, where great numbers of children whose parents were dead were already struggling to stay alive. Homeless children slept
on sidewalk heating grates, doorways, empty buildings, trash receptacles, cardboard boxes, or shipping crates in the alleys. They ate out of garbage cans or stole food from the grocery stores.”

Jody’s face twisted up. Oh, how awful!”

Sam rose from his chair. “Last week’s newspaper is still out on the back porch in the stack we use to start our fires with. I’ll get it. There’s something in there that Charles Loring Brace wrote. I want to read it to you.”

While Sam was out of the room, Jody said, “Mommy, I’m so glad the Lord put me in this family.”

Emma smiled. “So am I, sweetheart. What would your daddy and I ever do without you?”

Sam returned with the newspaper in hand. “Jody, when charitable groups began to open orphanages in the large cities back east, most of the children who lived in them were from the slums. Mr. Brace’s heart went out to the homeless children. He knew they needed housing, medical care, good food, clothing, and schooling. In this particular article, Mr. Brace is quoted as saying that when he opened the Children’s Aid Society, immediately children came to their door, needing help. This is what he wrote about these children.”

Sam opened the paper before him. “ ‘It was touching to see the crowds of wandering little ones who were finding their way to our office. Ragged young girls who had nowhere to lay their heads; children driven from drunkards’ homes; orphans who slept where they could find a box or stairway; boys cast out by stepmothers or stepfathers; newsboys, whose incessant answer to our question,
Where do you live?
rang in our ears:
Don’t live nowhere!

“ ‘Little bootblacks, young peddlers … pickpockets and petty thieves trying to get honest work; child beggars and flower sellers growing up to enter courses of crime—all this motley throng of infantile misery and childish guilt passed through our doors as
those first months came and went, telling their simple stories of suffering, loneliness, and temptation, until our hearts became sick.’ ”

“I can see why,” Jody said, her voice cracking. “Poor children. It makes my heart sick too.”

Emma shook her head and looked at her husband. “Sam, if I remember correctly, the article goes on to say that Mr. Brace didn’t think orphanages were the best solution for this problem because not only were all of New York City’s orphanages overcrowded, but they didn’t teach the children to become responsible adults who could take care of themselves.”

Sam nodded. “Mr. Brace believed that this would happen only if children had good families of their own. But where would the Children’s Aid Society find such families to take so many needy children? There was only one plausible answer—out West. So he created a plan called ‘placing out.’ And that’s how the orphan trains got started. What you saw today, Jody, was Mr. Brace’s ‘placing out’ in action.”

“Well, it seems to be working, Daddy. Not long ago, I heard some people at church talking about the orphan trains, and one man said they are now carrying homeless children all the way to California, even up to Oregon and Washington.”

Sam nodded. “That’s right, sugar. All the way to the Pacific Coast.”

Emma smiled. “Well, thank God for Charles Loring Brace! Before this orphan train program is over, I’m sure that hundreds of poor, needy children will be placed in good homes all over the West.”

Jody reached across the table and took hold of the hands of her mother and father. “The Lord has been so good to me! How thankful I am to have my precious parents and this wonderful home.”

W
arm breezes swirled across New York Harbor, sending the message that spring was coming on in full strength. It was Friday, April 10, and a number of sailboats were in the harbor, as well as fishing boats and ocean liners coming in from the Atlantic Ocean.

On the waterfront in New York Harbor, near the southern tip of Manhattan Island, stood the American Ship Lines building. The executive offices were on the second floor on the south side of the building, which protected them from the noise of the company’s ships as they docked and crews loaded and unloaded them on the west side.

In the office of assistant business manager Bob Marston, silver-haired Scott Woodrow, vice president of Manhattan Industries, closed his briefcase and stood. “Mr. Marston, it’s a pleasure to deal with you. I’m very happy with this contract, and I know our president and executive board will like it as much as I do. From this day on, American Ship Lines has all of our shipping business north and east on the Atlantic.”

Marston rose from his chair and shook Woodrow’s hand. “Thank you for coming to us, Mr. Woodrow. We’ll look forward to a long and lasting business relationship.”

“So will we.” Woodrow cocked his head, scrutinizing the young executive. “You’re quite young to be holding this position in the company. Have you seen thirty?”

“Yes, sir. I turned thirty last month.”

“Aha! I was close, at least. I figured you for twenty-eight or twenty-nine. And you’re married, I assume.”

“Oh yes. To a lovely lady. Her name is Louise.”

“Children?”

“The Lord has blessed Louise and me with three wonderful children. Mary is eight years old, Johnny is six, and the baby is four. Her name is Elizabeth, but we call her Lizzie.”

“Sounds like a happy family.” Woodrow picked up his briefcase. “Well, I must be going. I’m excited about telling my people at the office about this excellent contract.”

Bob Marston opened the office door, and with congenial parting words, Scott Woodrow hurried away.

Bob closed the door and swung a fist through the air. “Yes! Yes! Thank You, Lord!”

He walked to the large open window, where a flood of golden sunshine streamed in, and looked out on to the waters of the harbor. A warm, fragrant breeze came through the window.

He drew the salty air into his lungs. “Thank You, Lord!”

There was a tap at the door.

Bob moved hastily across the office carpet and opened the door. It was Leona Harrison, secretary to the company’s business manager. “Mr. Carr is ready to see you now, Mr. Marston. He wants you in his office right away.”

A smile spread over Bob’s handsome face. “I’m ready!”

He closed the door behind him, and as he and Leona walked down the hall together, she looked at him. “Mr. Woodrow looked happy when he came out of your office, Mr. Marston. I assume we got the contract with Manhattan Industries.”

“We sure did!”

“Wonderful! That’ll make Mr. Carr happy.”

“The one thing I want to do is keep Mr. Carr happy.”

They drew up in front of Weldon Carr’s office.