TITLE: One Hundred Tea-Light Candles By Dani Van Meter 08/28/09 |
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It was just two weeks ago when I got called into Mrs. Sanders office. I pushed the door open, racking my brain for things I could be in trouble for. Maybe super gluing my social worker’s glasses to her head would cause me early lights out. Or maybe I could be in trouble for tripping my House Mother, Sophia.
“Brodie,” Mrs. Sanders looked up from her work, flashing a rare smile at me. “I have good news for you.”
I breathed evenly, trying hard not to think. It couldn’t be…do I dare wish?
“Brodie, you’ve been adopted.”
I fought the jump up with excitement. Instead, I sank lower in my chair and shrugged my shoulders. “Whatever”.
The smile disappeared from Mrs. Sanders face.
“Well, would you like to know who adopted you?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
“Mrs…oh, here she is now! Come in, come in.”
A tall, grandmotherly lady walked in and gave a tentative wave in my direction. She had laughing, blue eyes and her white hair was pulled into a neat bun.
I stared in disbelief, my excitement turned into disappointment and anger.
“This lady is adopting me? Is it even legal to adopt at her age? How old is she anyway, 100? No, no! I want a mom and a dad to take care of me. Not a grandma.” And with that I burst into bitter tears. When I looked up again, Mrs. Sanders was gone and the old lady was sitting next to me, patting my hand.
“I know how you must feel, dearie. But just give me a chance. I think that we could be very good for each other.” There was something quiet and comforting in her voice. Mrs. Sanders came back in and we sat and talked for what felt like hours. We eventually worked out a compromise. I would live with Mrs. Cooper for six weeks. If I didn’t want to live with her after that, I could come back to the orphanage. We drove to her house in silence.
“Chalfon, we’re home, kitty.”
I rolled my eyes as Mrs. Cooper led the way to the room that was to be mine with the cat at her heels. A cat lady. Figures.
“Well, what do you think?” Mrs. Cooper asked eagerly, flinging her hand out like a game show host.
“Uh…it’s pink...and girly.” I said, tossing a fluffy pink rabbit off of the bed. I observed the stark contrast between the room and my personality. I grimaced but Mrs. Cooper didn’t miss a beat.
“Why don’t you just get settled in here while I get supper in the oven?”
I rolled over my bed and inspected the room. It was nicer that my room at the orphanage, and at least I didn’t have to share it with 5 other girls. There was a book lying on the bedside table. I reached over and found it to be a Bible. It was thin and brown, and looked very new. I opened the cover and a gasp caught in my throat. On the first blank page was my name written in calligraphy and underneath that was a message.
“Brodie, I hope that you will learn to love and trust the same Lord that I do and find everything you need in Him. Welcome to the family and I pray that you will start to love me as much as I already love you. Maggie Cooper. Exodus 15:2” I wiped away the tears that were forming in my eyes. No one had ever said such nice things to me before and certainly no one had ever told me that they loved me. It was a beautiful feeling. I jumped when I realized Mrs. Cooper standing in the doorway. I let the book fall from my hands and assumed my usual brass personality.
“Don’t you ever knock?” I almost screamed and slammed the door.
“I’m sorry,”Mrs. Cooper called through the door, “I just came up to tell you that supper is ready.”
“I don’t want to eat.” I yelled back.
“Well come down anyway, I have someone I want you to meet.”
I groaned inwardly. It was probably one of Mrs. Cooper’s old friends who would pinch my cheeks and tell Mrs. Cooper how nice they thought it was that she adopted an orphan.
I stayed in my room after Mrs. Cooper left the hall, hoping that she would forget all about me. Fat chance.
“Brodie, get down here.” She yelled authoritatively up the stairs.
I rolled off my bed, trudged out to the kitchen and stopped abruptly. There was no old friend in Mrs. Cooper’s kitchen. In fact, he looked younger than me. His eyes wondered around the room and for a moment I wondered if he was blind.
“This is my grandson, Ben.” Maggie said gently.
I looked at him.
“Hi” I offered. Maggie crossed the floor into the next room and indicated me to follow her. I did.
“What’s up with Ben?” I asked, curious at the fact that he didn’t even acknowledge me at all.
“Well, he has a syndrome called autism. That means that although his body grows normally, his skills aren’t the same as most kids his age. He has trouble communicating and struggles with social interaction.”
“Why is he here?” I asked in a hushed tone.
“He lives here, Brodie. His parents, my son and his wife, found out that he had autism when he was two. They got frightened and left him for me to take care of. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you before you came but I didn’t want to give you another reason to want to stay at the orphanage.”
“Why do they always run when they’re scared?” I whispered, mostly to myself, thinking about my dad who left me at birth.
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