Dear Diary,
Eleven years ago my mother, after learning that my baby brother was born with a severe disability, filled out a form stating she could no longer care for him. I saw that very document myself when I was delivering personal files to the local clinic. The nurse handed me a stack of folders and told me to follow her, but the phone rang, she hurried off, waving me toward the clinic and said, You can manage it yourself. She never imagined that, upon seeing his surname in the file, I would open the folder and read my mothers refusal letter.
In the orphanage all the children cling to the hope of being reunited with their families, but I stopped waiting. I stopped crying, too. My heart grew a steel shield that protected me from the slights of others, from loneliness, from any lack of love.
Every orphanage has its own customs. On the eve of New Years Eve, the children all write letters to Father Christmas. The headmistress sends those letters to the charity sponsors, who do what they can to grant the wishes. Some of the letters even reach the local airshow squadron. Most of the kids ask for one thing: to find their mum and dad. The people who open the letters are left scratching their heads, unsure what gifts to bring.
One day Major Chapman, a flightengineer, received such a letter. He slipped it into his flight jacket pocket, planning to read it at home and discuss possible presents with his wife and daughter. That evening, while the family sat down to dinner, he remembered the note, opened it and read aloud: Dear adults, if you can, please give me a laptop. No need to spend money on toys or clothes we have enough of that here. With the Internet I could make friends and maybe even find people who care about me. It was signed, Sam Smith, 11years old.
My, how clever children have become, his wife said. Indeed, the Internet can connect him to anyone he needs.
Our daughter Emily, frowning, took the letter, read it again and thought aloud. Dad, he isnt really hoping to find his parents, she whispered. He doesnt even expect them because they arent there. For him the laptop is a lifeline out of isolation. He writes find friends or caring people. Even strangers can become his family. Lets use our savings, buy him a laptop, and deliver it together.
The New Years celebration at the orphanage went on as usual. There was a performance, then Father Christmas and Mrs. Frost lit the tree. Sponsors handed out gifts, and occasionally a child was taken home for a weekend. I never expected anyone to look at the boys; the pretty girls seemed to get all the attention.
I hadnt written the letter for any special reason everyone else was doing it, so I did too. That evening, among the guests, I spotted a man in an RAF uniform. My heart fluttered, then I turned away and breathed quietly. When I was handed a sack of sweets, I limped toward the exit.
Sam Smith! a voice called, and I turned. Standing behind me was the same RAF officer. I froze, unsure how to react.
Hello, Sam, he said. We received your letter and would like to give you a present. First, let me introduce myself. Im Andrew Vaughan, but you can call me Uncle Andy.
Beside him, a striking lady smiled. Im Aunt Nora, she said.
A shy girl stepped forward. Im Emily. Were the same age, you know.
And Im Sam Obry, I replied, using the nickname the staff had given me.
Emily tried to ask something, but the man handed me a box and said, Its for you. Come with us to a room and well show you how to use the laptop.
We entered an empty hall where the kids usually did their evening homework. Emily turned the laptop on, logged in, connected to the Internet, and even set up a profile for me on a social network. Andrew stood nearby, offering occasional tips. I felt his warmth, his strength, his protection.
Emily chattered nonstop, yet I noticed she wasnt whiny; she knew her way around the laptop and even played football after school. When she left, the woman gave me a brief hug; her perfume fluttered in the air, making me hold my breath for a moment before I stepped back into the corridor.
Well be back soon, Emily called, waving.
From that day my life changed dramatically. I no longer let the other childrens nicknames bother me, and I stopped paying attention to petty teasing. The Internet opened a world of useful information. Ive always been fascinated by aircraft; I learned that the first massproduced military transport was the Antonov An8, designed by Oleg Antonov, and that the An25 is a later variant.
On weekends, Uncle Andy and Emily would visit. Sometimes we went to the circus, played arcade games, ate ice cream. I was always embarrassed to let them pay for everything, but they never minded.
One crisp morning, the headmistress called me into her office. She was with Aunt Nora, whose presence made my throat tighten.
Sam, she said, Nora wants to give you two days off to spend with her. If you agree, Ill sign you out.
Today is Aviation Day, she continued. Uncle Andy is hosting a big event. Hes inviting you to come. Will you go?
I nodded eagerly, unable to find words.
Good, Aunt Nora said, signing a form.
We left her office hand in hand. First we stopped at a large highstreet store, bought me a pair of jeans and a shirt. Seeing my battered sneakers, Nora led me to the shoe department. My feet were a different size each, so finding shoes took a while.
Dont worry, she reassured me. After the event well visit an orthopaedic clinic and order custom boots. One will have a special sole so my legs stay level and Ill barely limp. Nobody will even notice.
We then went to a barbershop, and finally home to pick up Emily. It was the first time I stepped out of the orphanage into a normal family home. The scent of home, the cosy atmosphere, wrapped around me. I hesitantly sat on the edge of a sofa and looked around. Directly in front of me stood a massive aquarium, fish swimming just as Id only ever seen on TV.
Im ready, Emily said. Lets go, Sam, Mum will be waiting.
We rode the lift down and walked to the car. Near a sandpit a little boy was looking around. He shouted, Grandpas lantern! Grandmas lantern! Emily paused, then turned to the boy and said, Wait a sec. He fell into the sand, laughing.
You okay? I asked, lying on the sand.
Just joking, he replied.
Save the jokes for somewhere else, Emily answered.
The airfield was painted with colourful banners. Uncle Andy met us and led us to his aircraft. My breath stopped when I saw the huge silver plane up close; its power struck my soul. Later, during the airshow, the crowd waved, shouted, and cheered. When Uncle Andys plane roared overhead, Emily shouted, Dads flying! Dad! I leapt up clumsily and shouted, Dad! Look, Dads flying! I didnt notice that Emily had grown quiet, watching her mother wipe away tears.
After dinner, Andrew sat beside me, draped an arm over my shoulders and said, You know, we believe everyone should belong to a family. Only in a family can you truly learn love, protect each other, and feel loved. Would you like to become part of ours?
A tight knot rose in my throat, choking my breath. I pressed closer to him and whispered, Dad, Ive been waiting for you forever.
A month later I left the orphanage. Proudly and carefully I stepped down the steps, holding my new fathers hand, barely limping. At the gate we paused. I glanced back at the building, waved to the kids and staff on the porch.
Were about to cross that line into a new life, my father said. Forget the bad things that happened here, but remember those who helped you survive. Stay grateful to those who lifted you up.
Looking back, I realise that a shield of steel is only useful when it protects someone you love. True strength comes from opening the heart, not closing it. Ive learned that belonging isnt about where you are born, but about who chooses to stand by you.
