“If our American way of life fails the child, it fails us all.”
Pearl S. Buck
Across the street there was a girl sitting on the stoop. Her legs were bare; she was eating an apple. I smiled and she smiled back. I figured over the years she had seen a lot of cars drive up.
I turned back to the large brick house; it looked like a home, though none I had ever lived in. It was inviting and I tried to figure out why. A black wrought iron fence surrounded the yard, but there was no gate. That was it — the home was inviting because there was no barrier between me and it. It wasn’t that the gate was open, there was no gate.
All was quiet as I walked to the front door. I didn’t feel I should knock at the door, so I didn’t. I walked in as the woman at a desk stood. We made our introductions.
“I’m embarrassed to say I’ve never been here before and I wanted to come.” Looking around, there was a large Christmas tree. From around the corner three girls came laughing and bouncing off one another like teenaged girls do. I turned back to Leigh Upton; she said that was her name.
“I’m looking for Christmas cards,” I told her. “I’ve always made my own cards, but this year I thought I’d buy Christmas cards here.”
Leigh helped me pick out a card with a star. The front read “love, joy, peace, selflessness,” the very words that described what I was feeling as I stood on the hardwood floors knowing a thousand feet had stood there before me.
Behind Leigh’s desk was a blown-up photograph of a dozen or so young girls. Their hair and clothes looked like photos taken of my own mother. The girls wore those little bowl haircuts with too-short bangs. Because I was interested, Leigh dug out a piece of notebook paper with the girls’ names penciled in. She said they posted the photograph on their Facebook page and people identified the girls. She pointed to one tall girl wearing glasses; she said that was Evelyn McPhail and nearby was Evelyn’s sister.
“I know it’s late, but I was wondering if someone could show me around a bit.”
Leigh said she’d check and returned in a minute with Katharine Hewlett who led me into the parlor that had once been the home’s dining room. It wasn’t hard to visualize a large table and chairs filled with lots of children and bowls being passed family style. The home has a feeling. It’s hard to describe but not hard to feel.
Katharine continued into a larger room surrounded by windows. Outside children were playing basketball; some talked, others watched.
Katharine offered a card, “Palmer Home For Children’s Christmas Open House.”
“Everyone is welcomed,” she said. “The children will sing.”
I was there on that first Thursday in December. There was joy in the world and the angels sang.
Note: Christmas cards are available at palmerhome.org or by calling Katharine Hewlett at 662-328-5704.
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