Make your own destiny Part I

I was ten years old and I was standing in the hallway of the orphanage, my ear pressed to a door. Around me, it was completely silent, which made it easier for me to hear what was being said inside. “We’ve been trying to conceive a child for a few years now”, a female voice said. “But apparently it just wasn’t in God’s plan.”

I rolled my eyes. I had never understood why people believed in a God. The whole concept of an all-powerful but loving man up in the clouds seemed so silly to me and I didn’t understand why grown people, the kind who could work and own a house and all other sorts of rational things, believed in this.

I always thought that if a God existed, it wasn’t the kind father everyone imagined. He had to have a really cruel sense of humour, because I had never felt loved or protected a day in my life, or like God had a plan for me.

I knew that I had to make my own destiny. That I had to act, instead of floating through life. Which was why I was here now, listening in on a clearly private conversation.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” This voice I knew. It was Anneliese, the matron of the orphanage. I could practically see her before me. Her rough, wrinkled hands were clasped together, her head slightly bowed. Her dark brown eyes were focused on the woman sitting across from her, like a laser.

Anneliese was a good person. I knew she was. She tried to find us children a home and she made sure that we were never without food, water or heating. But the matter of the fact was that she was overworked and underpaid. She had been running this orphanage for about forty years now, she had seen hundreds of children come and go, she had formed bonds only to see them shattered when the child was adopted. She had believed that an orphan was happy in a new family only to see that child return within a week. She had seen orphans end their own lives, because they didn’t want to live in a world in which their parents didn’t want them.

My theory was that, after forty years, Anneliese had just become desensitized to the fates that had befallen many orphans, to our stories. Now, she took care of us, but she didn’t care for us. And you could feel it. She was never mean to us, she didn’t hit us or verbally demean us, but she also didn’t get emotionally attached to us.

“We’re hoping to find a child here, one we can love and cherish as if it were ours by birth.” That was a new voice. Male. I didn’t know what the couple looked like, I hadn’t been fast enough to catch a peek when they arrived, but their tones were soothing, so I had no doubts that they would be lovely people. I imagined their faces now, warm, kind eyes and laugh lines around their mouths. I knew that I would be happy with them.

“Of course. I am sure that we will find you a perfect addition to your family”, Anneliese said now. “Could you please describe to me what kind of person you are looking for, so I can introduce you to some children in particular. You know, we have a lot of orphans here and I want to make sure that you talk to the ones that are fitting.”