During the next few weeks, more wounded were hospitalized, some never to return home.
When time permitted, Joe drove to the orphanage. To his delight, Mary had settled in well.
“She’s a leader,” Sister had noted. “Full of life and seems quite happy here.”
As soon as she spotted him, Mary ran over and took Joe’s hand.
“Hello Father,” she smiled up at him on his second visit.
“And hello Mary,” he smiled back. “You are a good student!”
She nodded, not understanding, but sensing she had pleased this big man who was her friend.
Suddenly the war was over. Yet neither side celebrated. But, Joe knew, the joy of returning home was the prevalent feeling of some, while, for others, from now on life would always be a battle.
Now or never, Joe thought, as he headed for Hugh’s office. To his relief, Hugh was there.
“It’s all over, Joe. Come in. I was just going to join the boys. The official part will come later. Come and join us for a drink.”
“Love to Hugh. But first… I have a sort of problem.”
“Sit down, Joe. How can I help?”
“Not too sure,” Joe answered. “It’s something I’ve been thinking about for some weeks. It’s the orphanage.”
Hugh listened intently as Joe told of his experience with the Orphanage, and his worry for the future of Mary and the other children, about which Hugh already guessed. Finally, Joe confided the plan that had been gradually growing in his mind.
“Glory be, Joe! What a plan!”
“Is it feasible?” Joe asked.
“Perhaps, and only just.” Hugh frowned. “Look, Joe, the boys are celebrating in the mess. Let’s join them. Then come back here and we’ll throw around a few ideas.”
The mess was full. Commissioned officers mingled with privates. The mood was quietly celebratory. The joy of war over and returning home was tinged with many other factors – friends never returning, different wars still waging in many minds, many personal griefs and many unanswered questions.
When time came to return to barracks, Hugh suggested that Joe join him back in his office. Once there, Hugh wasted no time in returning to Joe’s plan.
“With the little time I’ve had to think it over, these are just a few ideas. Okay, I agree with you – we bear some of the blame for what has happened to many kids in this war. And yes, something needs to be done about the present state of the Orphanage. The boys need to return home now. But perhaps – and I stress perhaps – we could round up a group – for what I’m not sure! This group would need some expertise apart from willing helpers. I’d have to look through records. And, of course, they would have to agree. Okay, I think we would have that part covered with enough healthy workers, including those with building expertise. Then comes the problem. Where do the materials needed come from? And who would pay for these materials? It’s a terrific idea, Joe. But, from a practical point of view, I think it can only be that – a terrific idea.”
Heading out into waters he had not even explored, Joe answered, “Hugh, you get us the right workers, I’ll find the materials.”
Hugh looked at him in amazement, “Joe, are you a magician? Or are you mad? Even if all the material is available and our boys are agreeable, where are the funds coming from?”
“You find me the workers, and I’ll find the funds.”
Back in his room, Joe prayed, prayed for what seemed impossible. His prayer ended with, ‘God, these kids need us. And we need You. We ask Your help.’ Then to himself, okay Joe, you can’t expect a miracle unless you do your bit too.
And then, as often happened, Naomi’s face floated across his mind. “Oh, Nae,” he whispered.