CHAPTER-13

"We'll have a small tree and a few gifts-something that all of them 

can share. "You're welcome to visit Christmas Eve. . . ."

After we said our good-byes, Amelia and I walked in silence 

without saying anything. I could tell she was sad. The more I hung 

around Amelia, the more I realized she had lots of different 

emotions-she wasn't always cheerful and happy. Believe it or not, 

that was the first time I recognized that in some ways she was 

just like the rest of us.

"I'm sorry it didn't work out," I said softly.

"I am, too."

She had that faraway look in her eyes again, and it was a moment 

before she went on.

"I just wanted to do something different for them this year. 

Something special that they would remember forever. I thought 

for sure this was it. . . ." She sighed. "The Lord seems to have a 

plan that I just don't know about yet."

She was quiet for a long time, and I looked at her. Seeing Amelia 

feeling bad was almost worse than feeling bad because of her. 

Unlike Amelia, I deserved to feel bad about myself-I knew what 

kind of person I was. But with her . . .

"While we're here, do you want to stop in to see the kids?" I asked 

into the silence. It was the only thing I could think to do that 

might make her feel better. "I could wait out here while you talk 

to them, or go to the car if you want."

"Would you visit them with me?" she asked suddenly.

To be honest, I wasn't sure I could handle it, but I knew she really 

wanted me there. And she was feeling so down that the words 

came out automatically.

"Sure, I'll go."

"They'll be in the rec room now. That's where they usually are at 

this time," she said.

We walked down the corridors to the end of the hall, where two 

doors opened into a good-size room. Perched in the far corner 

was a small television with about thirty metal folding chairs 

placed all around it. The kids were sitting in the chairs, crowded 

around it, and you could tell that only the ones in the front row 

had a good view of the thing.

I glanced around. In the corner was an old Ping-Pong table. The 

surface was cracked and dusty, the net nowhere to be seen. A 

couple of empty Styrofoam cups sat on top of it, and I knew it 

hadn't been used in months, maybe years. Along the wall next to 

the Ping-Pong table were a set of shelves, with a few toys here 

and there-blocks and puzzles, a couple of games. There weren't 

too many, and the few that were there looked as if they'd been in 

this room for a long time. Along the near walls were small 

individual desks piled with newspapers, scribbled on with 

crayons.

We stood in the doorway for just a second. We hadn't been 

noticed yet, and I asked what the newspapers were for.

"They don't have coloring books," she whispered, "so they use 

newspapers." She didn't look at me as she spoke-instead her 

attention was directed at the kids. She'd begun to smile again.

"Are these all the toys they have?" I asked.

She nodded. "Yes, except for the stuffed animals. They're allowed 

to keep those in their rooms. This is where the rest of the things 

are kept."

I guess she was used to it. To me, though, the sparseness of the 

room made the whole thing depressing. I couldn't imagine 

growing up in a place like this.

Amelia and I finally walked into the room, and one of the kids 

turned around at the sound of our steps. He was about eight or 

so, with red hair and freckles, his two front teeth missing.

"AMELIA!" he shouted happily when he saw her, and all of a sudden 

all the other heads turned. The kids ranged in age from about five to twelve, more boys than girls. After twelve they had to be sent 

to live with foster parents, I later learned.

"Hey, Roger," Amelia said in response, "how are you?"

With that, Roger and some of the others began to crowd around 

us. A few of the other kids ignored us and moved closer to the 

television now that there were free seats in the front row. Amelia 

introduced me to one of the older kids who'd come up and asked 

if I was her boyfriend. By his tone, I think that he had the same 

opinion of Amelia that most of the kids in our high school had.

"He's just a friend," she said. "But he's very nice."

Over the next hour, we visited with the children. I got a lot of 

questions about where I lived and whether my house was big or 

what kind of car I owned, and when we finally had to leave, Amelia 

promised that she'd be back soon. I noticed that she didn't 

promise I would be with her. While we were walking back to the 

car, I said, "They're a nice bunch of kids." I shrugged awkwardly. 

"I'm glad that you want to help them."

Amelia turned to me and smiled. She knew there wasn't much to 

add after that, but I could tell she was still wondering what she 

was going to do for them that Christmas.

Afterall our show was near the corner and after that there won't be much time to prepare something big for the children.