Abandoned Part 1

“In 2004 there were over 143 million orphaned and abandoned children, in 93 developing countries, worldwide. This is 8.4 % off all children in the world.”¹ This is one story.

It was a mid-summer’s day in 1929 when my mother took me to the City. I had never been to a city before, but it was my birthday. Maybe, just maybe this was going to be my birthday present. As we rode the train we were surrounded by strangers and I made certain I didn’t make eye contact with any of them. They seemed to pay me no mind as they read their papers or talked with one another. There was one particular man who stood and walked past my seat and as he did he looked straight into my eyes and I became frightened and wanted to hold my mother’s hand but for some odd reason she refused and told me that, "I needed to grow up, I need to act my age." I couldn't understand why she was so stern with me, she knows it is my birthday, doesn’t she? I asked myself.

It was very warm in the rail car as we made our way toward the city. I could see the outline of the City growing in the window. Several windows were down but it really didn’t help the heat or the smell of sweat from the rail car. I was use to the heat so I wiped the sweat that was forming on my forehead. I was the luckiest boy in the whole world; I am going to New York City, I thought to my self.

I had heard my mother talk about the city several times in the past but we lived in an apartment over a small store in a little town. I have one friend named Emily and she is five years old. I wish she could have made this trip with me today, I kept thinking to myself.

The train began slowing down and I stood up from my seat and tried to look out but my mother jerked me back into my seat by my arm. I turned to look as I cowed away from her. She had slapped me in the face in the past when she got mad so I was afraid she was going to hit me, but she didn’t.  I climbed back into my seat and tried not to move. I didn't want to do anything to make her mad at me. I love my mommy, even when she is upset.

“You’ve pushed me too far!” she would often say after slapping me in the face. So I knew it was my fault, I must have been a bad little boy.

The sound of the clicking of the wheels of the train began to slow more as we pulled into the heart of the city. "We’re arriving at Grand Central Station," I heard someone say.

People stood up and mother grabbed my hand and she jerked me from my seat as she said, “Let’s go.” She said as she squeezed my hand tightly. It hurt but I was afraid to say anything. I couldn’t figure out why she was mad at me, after all, it was my birthday.

I adjusted my hat with my free hand as we stepped off the train and entered the largest room I had ever been in. As I looked around, I believe our town could have fit inside with room to spare. There was a counter in the center of the room with a large clock with a face pointing in four directions. I couldn’t read but I could tell there were many destinations written out on a board and people were running here and there in an attempt to catch a train pulling into the station. The voices echoed off the walls as we made our way outside. This was the most exciting day of my life, the day I visited New York.

There were people everywhere, more people than I had ever seen before. They all seemed to be going somewhere, to some unknown destination and one thing was for sure, they were all headed there in a hurry. People kept bumping into me as we walked down the street. There were hordes of people moving about, more people than I had ever seen in one place.

"Mommy, where are we going?" I asked her, but we kept walking, her jerking me along because I was having trouble keeping up with her pace. One thing I do know, that something is bothering my mommy and I don’t think it is good. She is hurting my hand, but I am afraid to say anything. At times she would jerk me off my feet and I would spin around trying to keep my balance. As she bounded down the street she stepped over a curb and I lost my balance, my hand slipped out of hers and I feel face down. She turned around and jerked me to my feet and started slapping me in the face and on the top of my head. I started crying, but this did nothing to stop her assault. Finally she looked away and I wiped the tears from my eyes, I was very sad and just wanted to go back home, but we continued down the street.

As I looked around there were cars and trucks of different sizes driving up and down both sides of the street, tooting their horns as they made their way to unknown destinations, people dodging in between them to get to the other side of the street. I looked up to see the tallest buildings; they seemed to disappear into the sky. Being from the country the tallest building there was the feed store or the silo at old man Kelsey’s farm.

I was fascinated at the pigeons; they didn’t appear to be afraid of anyone. They walked along the edge of the roads just at the feet of pedestrians as they strolled along. I reached down to pet one, who looked back at me with interest. He was not afraid of me as I smiled at him, but just as I reached to touch him my mother jerked me back with a stern warning, “leave those worthless birds alone.” She warned me. I thought they were beautiful. The colors in their feathers reminded me of the rainbow and maybe one day I would have my own pigeon. I kept turning my head and the curious bird watched me as I disappeared into the crowd.

We walked a little further until I could smell something, something very good, but I didn’t know what it was – all I do know is that I was hungry. I tugged at my mother’s hand and she turned to look at me, “what do you want?” she asked.

I hesitated to tell her, “I’m hungry,” I said as I looked into her eyes.

“It won’t be much further,” she said as we rounded a building and the area opened up to reveal a large grassy place with trees planted along its border. The place looked like a large park, with walking paths cut through its center. The trees were beautiful, with their limbs hanging full of beautiful green leaves and the grass neatly cut. There were vendors all alone the street that bordered the park. The smell of food was in the air and it made my stomach hurt all the more. There were balloons of every color, stuffed animals, one was selling leather belts, and another was selling ties and shoes. Everything you could think of, there was a peddler selling his wears.

--> We walked across the street to a bench where we stopped. My mother looked around in all directions as if she were looking for someone. I looked at her and then turned to see if we were meeting someone I knew. My heart leapt as the thought came to me that we must have been meeting my daddy here. He had been gone a year and maybe, just maybe we were going to meet him here and be a family again.