The Orphanage

by jphilo | May 7, 2012 | Family, Out and About

Life takes unusual turns now and then. We’re reminded of this daily during this visit our daughter and new son in Ohio. Every day, when we drive from the relatives we’re staying with (they have a big house) to our daughter and new son’s digs (a tiny apartment), we drive by an impressive, three story, turn-turn-of-the-century brick building. A prominent “for lease” sign graces the large, grassy front yard, and another proclaiming “office space to let” covers the space where I suspect the original name of the building is engraved in stone.

After driving by a few times, I asked Hiram, “Do you think that’s the old orphanage where your grandma took your dad and his brother Cassius to live?”

Neither of us were sure, so we asked Hiram’s step-mom when we saw her. “Yes, she said. “That big three-story building on Wooster St. That’s where those boys lived when their mother didn’t have the means to care for them.

This morning, when we drove by the former orphanage, the words from “It’s a Hard Knock Life” came to mind…

It’s the hard-knock life for us
It’s the hard-knock life for us
No one cares for you a smidge
When your in an orphanage
It’s the hard-knock life
It’s the hard-knock life
It’s the hard-knock life!

…and thought the lyrics aren’t nearly as carefree and humorous when you know someone who was an orphan. Like Hiram’s father. Who had a hard time his entire life demonstrating love to others. Partly because he was a quiet, non-demonstrative man. But also, perhaps, because he was sent to an orphanage when he was ten. And he felt like no one cared for him a smidge.

I think of my father-in-law, and I think of our children as we drive the few short blocks between the orphanage he entered at age 10 and the grad school apartment where my daughter and new son live. My heart aches to think of that lonely man who felt unloved. But it delights in our children who know we love them dearly.

Why this strange turn of events?
Perhaps to remind us of the blessings God has rained upon our family.
Perhaps to create compassion for a man who never knew them.
Perhaps to make me realize “widows and orphans” aren’t theory but fact.
Perhaps to make me cry.