Read Online Forgetting Tabitha: An Orphan Train Rider by Julie Dewey - Free Book Online

down from my hip and stood at my side. His little hands held tight to my calico dress while he sucked his pop loudly and drooled out the side of his mouth. The woman and her husband asked if he was a bright boy, and did he sleep through the night, was he potty trained, did he have trouble hearing or seeing things? I answered all of the questions thoughtfully. I told them Eddie was the dearest child I had ever known, I told them of his nature to want to cuddle, how he liked to be sung to sleep and have his head rubbed. They were enchanted by him and decided that they would love nothing more than to welcome him into their home as their son. Tears filled my eyes. Eddie would have a loving home, a real family, and he could grow up to be a business man like his adopted father, or perhaps he could learn a trade. He would read and write, learn arithmetic and have a wife and children of his own one day. More than anything this family would see to his health and his ailing cough. He hardly noticed me as his new parents bribed him off the platform with stuffed animal toys and more treats.
    Feeling a kinship towards me, Agnes placed her hands upon my shrugged shoulders in comfort, “Mary, I will talk to the Sisters about having you assist me with other small children, would you like that?” I hugged Agnes and stifled my tears, “Yes, I would like that very much,” I said feeling my heart break at the loss of Edmund. I also felt saddened and suddenly very worried about my own future and what it would bring. Edmund had become a crutch and once again I was alone.
    Later I found out that Agnes had approached the family about adopting me as Eddie’s nanny, she showered me with praise for my ability to calm him when he was upset. But they declined, only having the financial capabilities to care for one child at this time.
    I had many other children to look after on the train but at every stop more of them were finding homes. Terrified siblings clung to one another in fear of being ripped apart; happily most of them were taken together on this journey. All the infants were gone and most of the older lads and gals were gone too.
    Agnes always talked up the clean air and when I closed my eyes I could taste it. I remembered the farm when both my mama and da were alive and we lived nestled in a two room split frame house with loft that my da built by himself. I had my own bed and starburst quilt and even had a window to see the constellations at night. The smell of fresh cut hay and the taste of the crisp apples that came from the trees by our stream filled my senses. I wished fervently that we could have stayed on that farm, that we could have figured a way, but the good Lord must have had a different plan in mind for me.
    One day on the train when the children were napping I sat next to Agnes and asked about her family. She cleared her throat before recounting her story to me, fondling the cross she wore around her neck all the while. Her mother was a German immigrant in New York City struggling to feed her three small children. Her father left her mother for days on end heading to the brothels or opium dens in The Five Points. Her mother, Anna, starved herself in order to feed her children the scraps she could beg or find in garbage cans around the city. Hearing the news her husband died in a bar brawl she was overcome with shock and walked away from her children for an entire day. When she returned she had food and drink, blankets and a few spare coins for emergencies. She began going out at night and returning in the early morning hours, often times she was drunk and always she was sore down there. She smelled of cheap perfume and male body odor and more than once she came home with large bruises across her face. Agnes recounted the time her mother’s wrist was broken and she cradled it in her other arm, still she was able to put food on the table for her small children. When Agnes was thirteen her mother was gone so much she had to quit