A Little Boy’s Mother
I was living in the Smoky Mountains in Carolina.It was autumn.I needed quiet to be away from people.My mind was troubled and the mountain air helped me write better.I also wanted to see the red autumn leaves,the pumpkins1) and to feel the excitement of living free and alone.I found them all in a small house which belongs to the Children’s Home.The house is cut off from the village below and from the world by deep mountain snows.The heavy fog that surrounds the Smoky Mountains hides the house from the eyes of the people.
When I moved into the house,I asked the lady at the Children’s Home to send a boy to cut wood for the fireplace.About a week later,I looked up from my writing a little surprised.There,in front of me,was a small boy.My dog,Pat,had not barked2) to warn me.The boy wore old torn pants3) and a shirt worn thin from too many washings.He wore no shoes on his feet.“I can cut some wood today,”he said.
“But I have a boy coming from the Children’s Home.”
“I am the boy.”
“You?But you’re so small.”
“I can carry milk to the Baby’ s House,ma‘am.Some days I carry it two times.”
“In this bitter wind4)?”
“Yes,ma‘ am,stiff fingers don’t feel bad once you get used to them.We get our faces bitten by the cold wind because we can’t put our hands over them.But I have gloves.Some of the boys don’ t have any gloves.”
“But cutting wood is a man’s job.”
He smiled at me,“I know all kinds of wood,ma‘am,I‘ve been cutting wood at the Children’s Home for a long time.”
“Very well,there’ s the ax5).Go ahead and try cutting and see what you can do.”
I began to work again.The first sounds of the ax cutting through the wood,interfered with my thoughts.But soon the steady chop,chop,stopped troubling me.I settled down and wrote for the rest of the afternoon.The sun was slowly dropping behind the cold,purple mountains when I heard the boy’s footsteps coming toward my door.
“I have to go eat now.I can come again tomorrow afternoon.”
“I’ll pay you for what you’ve done.”
We went together to see his work.Next to the house was a lot of cleanly-cut wood.
“But you have cut as much as a man.This is a wonderful pile of wood.”I gave him some money.“You may come again tomorrow and thank you very much.”He looked at me and then at the money.He seemed as if he wanted to talk.But he could not.He turned away but over his thin shoulder he shouted back to me,“I’ll cut some small pieces tomorrow.You’ll need small thin pieces and middle size pieces and some heavier ones.”
He came again the next day and worked until it was time to leave.His name was Jerry.He was 12years old and had been at Children’s Home since he was only four.I thought of him as he must have looked when he was four years old.The same strong gray eyes with the small ring of blue around them,the same integrity6) and courage.Integrity is honesty.But it is more than just being honest.For example,the handle of the ax broke one day.Jerry said the Children’s Home would repair it,I handed him some money to pay for it.He wouldn’t take the money.
“I’ll pay for it,ma‘am.I broke it.I didn’t hit the wood in the right place.”
“But Jerry,no one hits the wood in the right place all the time.It was a weak handle.I’ll speak to the man who sold it to me.”It was only then that he would take the money.
Another thing about Jerry that was special is that he would do those little,helpful things that are not necessary but make life so much easier,things only the heart can do,things that can not be trained or taught,for they are done quickly and without thought.He found a hole near the fireplace that I had not seen.“I’ll place some wood in the hole,ma‘am.Then when a sudden storm comes up,you can stay warm.”Or the day he found a loose stone in the walking place outside.“Let me place a bigger stone there.I‘ll dig the hole deeper so it won’t come loose again.”
The days passed.And Jerry and my dog,Pat,became close friends.Perhaps it was because a boy and a dog have a common spirit,a wisdom that is closer than a grown person and a dog.
One cold day,Jerry sat close by me near the fire.The dog lay close to him.We watched the fire burn.Jerry suddenly talked of something he had never talked of before.“You look like my mother,especially next to the fire.”
“But you were only four,Jerry,when you came to live at the Children’s Home.Do you still remember your mother?”He nodded his head yes.“My mother lives near Manville.”Learning he had a mother surprised me .I also felt anger against her.How could she abandon7) such a nice boy?The Children’s Home was nice.The people there were kind and the boys were healthy.But what sort of a person was his mother?Jerry must have looked as nice then as he does now.His fine qualities have always been there.Any person could see them.My heart filled with questions I dared not ask.I was afraid I would cause him pain,so I talked to him carefully,“Have you seen your mother lately?”
“I see her every summer.She sends for me.”
I wanted to cry aloud.Why are you here?Why aren’t you with her?How can she let you go away again?
But I said nothing.
Jerry talked with happiness in his heart.“She comes for me from Manville whenever she can.She isn’t working right now.She wanted to give me a dog but they say a boy can’t have a dog at the Home.She sent me a Sunday suit.And last Christmas,she sent me a bicycle.I let the other boys play with the bicycle when they promise to be careful with it.”
My mind was busy trying to understand his mother.She had not completely forgotten him.But why didn’t she take him back home?What was the reason other than being poor?Jerry,still sounding happy,talked in a very soft voice,“I’m going to take the dollar you gave me and buy her a pair of gloves,white gloves.She likes white gloves.”
I could say nothing except,“That will be nice,”for I hated her.There was other food than bread,food for the soul and for the heart that only a mother can give.He was going to buy gloves for his mother while she lived in Manville away from him.I decided I would not leave the mountains until I talked with her to l earn why she had placed him in a Children’s Home.But the human mind finds many things to think about.Every wind seems to blow new an d different thoughts into it.I finished my work,but it did not please me.My thoughts turn ed to travel.I decided to go to Mexico and t hen perhaps on to other places.I did not take the time to see Jerry’s mother.I was busy preparing to leave and after that night by the fire we did not speak about her again.The fact that he had a mother,any sort of a mother,made me feel better about him.
When I was ready to leave,I said to him,“Jerry,you’ve been my good friend.I shall think of you often and miss you very much.Pat will miss you,too,after we leave tomorrow.”
He did not answer.
I watched him climb the hill in silence.I expected him to come the next day but he did not come.
I placed all my things in the car,closed the house,then drove to the Children’s Home to see him.I told the lady there that I was leaving and asked her to call Jerry so I could say goodbye.She was troubled.“I do not know where he is.I am afraid he might be sick.He didn’ t eat his dinner,and one of the boys said he had gone for a walk in the woods.”
My heart felt better.I hate goodbyes and I knew I would never see him again.It was better for both of us this way.
“Here is some money,”I said.“Will you use it to buy him things for his birthday and for Christmas.I might buy him the same thing his mother buys.This way he’ll get different things and,well,not two bicycles for example.”
She looked at me strangely and said,“There isn’t much place to ride a bicycle in the mountains.”
Her stupidity began to bother me.“What I mean is,I don’t want to buy him things his mother might buy him.I might have bought him a bicycle if I hadn’t learned she had bought him one.”
She still looked at me.Then she finally said,“I don’t understand.He has no mother.He has no bicycle.”