Memory Man

Martha Morrison had been on drugs for several years. 1 Now left alone, in a big city, with no husband to support her and no visible means of help, she had decided to leave her

three months’ old son, Matthew, at St. Vincent’s Orphanage. It was her only hope, so on this rather cool morning she left him there with a note pinned on his blanket:-

“Dear Father: -His name is Matthew Morrison. He was born on January 3rd.  I can’t take care of him properly.  Please help him.  God forgive me!”

She then rang the front door bell and left the baby in a cardboard box.  Then she hid herself behind some shrubs to see what happened.

Sister Paul, head sister of the convent, answered the door, then looked down and noticed the box: with the baby inside.

Martha, now assured of his safety, left.

Matthew grew up with the other 200 children.

Martha had been living in an abandoned tenement with Matthew and several of her degenerate friends. In the day, several of the girls would try their luck, walking the streets, needing money for food.

The more attractive ones succeeded.  Martha wasn’t the most desirable so she insisted on staying in the abandoned tenement to take care of Matthew and little Ann, who was her friend’s baby, just nine months old.

The girls knew what they were doing was wrong -not the prostituting of themselves.  That was OK in their minds, but the care of the children. This they knew was wrong.

The man who was living among them was an alcoholic.  He was sleeping with all the girls on different occasions.  Most probably Matthew was related to Ann.

Back in the orphanage the phone was ringing.

“Good morning. “

“Yes, good morning. I am Julia Summer. I am secretary to Jonathan Winthrop, president of World Airlines.  Who am I speaking to, please?”

“I’m Sister Louis-Marie.”

“Sister, is Father Andrew in?”

“Yes, but he’s busy at the moment.”

“OK, thank you. Could you please tell him that Jonathan Winthrop’s secretary called?” “Yes, I will.”

“Thank you. Good bye.”

“Good bye. “

When Father Andrew returned from class, Sister Louis Marie mentioned the call.  There was excitement in his eyes.  He mentioned that Mr. Winthrop, some 25 years earlier, had been an orphan himself.  He then spoke into the phone.

“Good morning, this is Mr. Winthrop’s office.”

“Good morning, Julia. It’s me, Father Andrew.”

“Good morning, Father. We have some good news. Mr. Winthrop wanted to tell you himself, but he’s in a meeting now.  He finally convinced the Board to send you and the children to India to the World’s Fair.  What do you think?”

“I’m delighted to hear it has finally happened.  We’ve been talking about it for several weeks now. I’m sure the children will be excited as well.”

“I’m sure they will, Father.  What is the exact number of children and we mustn’t forget the staff.  What is the total number that will be able to come?”

“We have 200 children and there are eleven in the staff, including myself.”

“Fine, Father.  I’II take care of all the flight arrangements and hotel reservations for 211 people.”

“Thank you, Julia. I’II tell everyone tonight at dinner.  When can we expect to leave?”

“I could arrange it all to happen for next week. When is the last day of school?”