THE ORPHAN'S PRICE
D. Bruce Ayler

Concordia, Kansas USA

December 3, 2002

What is this busy place
With all its rush and noise?
Just where are we going?
Do I have a choice?

Where is it we are going?
Why do I stand in line?
To a place beyond your knowing!
Hush now! Don't you whine!

Climb on up there now!
Get aboard the train!
Quickly find your seat!
Go on in out of the rain!

With blowing whistle and a jerk
The train leaves this day.
Most of my kin are left behind
All I know is torn away.

With gathering speed
The train pulls away.
I know not the value of
What is lost this day.

The small ones cry as we leave
Others, with noses to windows pressed
Sensing loss, some start to grieve
Others, are with new sights impressed.

Swaying cars and clacking noise,
Lull to sleep tired girls and boys.
Tomorrow's unknown makes fitful sleep,
Fearful child, his own council keeps.

Why all the sudden fuss
As we pull into station strange?
How do we make them choose us?
For new Mamas and Papas arrange?

Yes'um I'm strong for my age!
Yes, I have all my teeth!
I'll sing a song upon the stage!
Anything at all to please!

Yes'um, We'd sure like to be
Your new little girl and boy.
But she is my sister, you see!
I can't leave her like broken toy!!

Don't take my sister away!
She's all the family I have!
She's too high a price to pay
Just to get a new Mom and Dad!

My pounding heart is about to break
As my sister's train pulls from sight.
Even new Mama's chocolate cake
Is little comfort this tragic night!

Passing years eased not my pain,
Knowing sister is far down the track.
Longing to see her face once again,
Hoping the train will bring her back.

Does sister even remember me?
Does she know where to look?
Am I but a faint memory, or
Which track the train took?

Am I uncle to her girls and boys?
Does she tell them who I am?
Am I but forgotten noise
Lost in some far and distant land?

Though I love my children dear,
They will never be allowed to see--
How I paid the cost each year,
Holding my pain deep inside of me.

My children will never know,
The warmth of my sister's love.
She'll not see them as they grow,
Nor correct them as they push and shove.

Oh, how I long to see
Just once more before I die--
My sister walk up to me
And wipe the tears from my eyes.

 

Note: This poem is not meant to describe the feelings of any particular Orphan Train rider but is made up of the composite feelings of Orphan Train riders I have met over the years.


D. Bruce Ayler is the son of an Orphan Train Rider and webmaster for the Orphan Train Heritage society of America, Inc. (OTHSA)
P.O. Box 322, Concordia, Kansas 66901 Tel./Fax: (785) 243-4471

 

[TALES]

 

     
     
     
     
     
     
     
     
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