Day 30 - Orphans

This could never happen today. But life in small town Minnesota was simpler and safer back "then."

While I was in college, my boyfriend was away in the Navy. I still went out with my girlfriends to movies and even to dances, but I didn't go out on dates, because that would have been wrong, right? But I did want to go to events that my friends went to, even though they were on dates, so I came up with a scheme that I thought would work. It would be a way for me to go out, especially to sporting events, without really being on a date. But I am an introvert, so it took me a long time to think about my scheme before I did anything about it.

And all that time was probably the reason that the idea kept sounding better and better each time I considered it. I didn't share the idea with anyone else, so I didn't have a devil's advocate, or even a reasonable person, to poke holes in it. But in the meantime I kept thinking about the idea, working out the details - or at least the appealing ones - in my head.

Image by Bazule, via Flickr

I can still conjure up the image that was central to my scheme. He was about 8 years old, had blue eyes and curly blond hair. He lived in an orphanage. I imagined meeting him and taking him to basketball games and other events that I thought 8-year-olds would be interested in.

He didn't exist, of course. He was just in my imagination. And I imagined that if I met him and if I took him with me to ball games, he would sit next to me and we would share popcorn and soft drinks, and somehow spending time with him would turn into some type of "credit" for my future. I think I even let my imagination get so out of control as to think that once my boyfriend returned from the Navy, he and I would continue to take the blue-eyed, blond boy to ball games and maybe even end up adopting him.

I was so naive.

I didn't realize not every child living in an orphanage is actually an orphan. And I certainly had no idea that children living in orphanages came from families where children might be damaged, either physically or emotionally or both. My image of an orphanage came from children's books, or maybe even from fairy tales, where good little boys and girls were harassed by witches, trolls, or evil step-mothers, but the boys and girls always triumphed, still good.

Eventually, I did get up the courage to call the local orphanage.  I think the only reason the administrator there, or the social worker he put me into contact with, even listened to me was that the orphanage was sponsored by Lutheran Social Services and I attended the local Lutheran college. There may even have been a phone call or two that I wasn't aware of between the social services organization and the pastor of my church, to verify that I wasn't damaged. At least, I hope there was. But no one told me so.

I explained to the social worker that I was offering to take a boy from to a basketball game. I'm sure the social worker asked me more about my motivation, but I don't recall the questions or my answers.

The social worker suggested that the evening would be more successful if I brought two boys with me, so that the boys would have someone they each knew with them for the evening. I wonder now why she never suggested that I take a girl or two instead of boys, but I don't recall that option ever coming up. Because I would be picking up two boys, I asked one of my girlfriends, Lynne, if she would come with me.

The basketball game was between two local college teams. I attended one; my girlfriend attended the other. We picked up the two boys at the orphanage and went to the game.

Image by theirhistory, via Flickr

One of the boys may have been a little older than the other. Neither of them were blue-eyed blonds. And they were both very clever, a more than even match for my naive self, in spite of my 10-year advantage in age. On the ride over to the field house, I learned that neither of them were orphans. Each was living at the orphanage because his parents were unable to care for him. No details about the reasons for parental unavailability were shared.

When we entered the field house, the older boy suggested I get them something to eat and drink. Since that was part of my imaginary scheme, I bought them something. I don't think more than five minutes passed after we sat down before the older boy suggested that he and his friend might want to sit on the other side of the court. Well, now this wasn't part of my imaginary scheme, but I didn't know how to insist they stay with us, so I told them they had to come back to where we were sitting at half time. At least I hope I was smart enough to insist on that.

Image by TheImageGroup, via Flickr

After the game ended, the older boy suggested that we get something to eat before going back to the orphanage. He was big on suggesting. We went to a drive-through fast food place, probably King Leo's, for hamburgers and soft drinks. And then we drove back to the orphanage and dropped off the boys. They both said thanks and that was the end of the evening. And of my scheme.

As I said, those were simpler days, days before there were stories in the news about children being abducted or assaulted by adults who should have been their protectors - teachers, scout leaders, even religious figures. I am so glad I grew up in that simpler, safer time in that simpler, safer place. Sometimes I wonder now why I ever wanted to leave it behind.