searching.

I stopped by the orphanage today. It’s been years. There aren’t nearly as many children there as there used to be, and that breaks my heart, because I know so many of the ones who could be there are out in the streets instead.

I went looking for D.G., but now all I can think about is how much we could help those children. I can’t get that out of my head. Even though Danny and I decided years ago that adoption wasn’t for us, so much has changed. I’ve lost all hope of ever having a child of my own, and there are so many who just need a home. But this isn’t the right time, with how Danny and I are. We don’t need to bring a child in to complicate things. But I’m still searching for the girl. I just can’t get her out of my head. I connected with her, even if it wasn’t mutual. The nun I spoke to, the head of the orphanage, wasn’t the there when Danny and I were visiting. So she doesn’t remember me from that, though we’ve met around the church before, and when I described D.G. to her, she said it didn’t ring a bell. She told me she could check the files but, without knowing the girl’s real name, I felt like that was pretty much useless.

But on my way out I saw Sister Marguerite. I didn’t know she was still around but she is, still teaching the orphans. I stopped and spoke to her, and when I mentioned D.G., described her, she did remember. “She was our poster child, until she ran away,” is what she told me. “She disappeared shortly after her brother left the orphanage.” At least that matches with the story she told me. Though when the girl told me, she made it sound like her brother had gone missing recently. To hear Marguerite tell it, the girl had disappeared four or five years ago, though she couldn't remember for sure. Poor Marguerite. “She was such a sweet child, I never understood why she would just leave like that.” She couldn’t remember the girl’s name, but said the brother’s name was Jack, and she told me she’d search through the files and see what she could find. I’m not too hopeful though. I can’t imagine how many Jacks have come and gone through the orphanage over the past ten years.

So I haven’t gotten anywhere, really. And I’ve hardly seen Danny at all today either, so I haven’t had the chance to even try to talk to him, or to see how he’s doing. I’m afraid that his mood from yesterday might have worn off, and he’ll be distant again. I can’t handle that. Seeing the children just reminded me how alone I feel sometimes—how unfulfilled. If I had a child, at least I’d have someone who needed me. Danny needs me in his own way, I suppose, but I can’t help but think sometimes he might be happier without me.