Spring 1934 Diary Entry

 

Spring of 1934

  Dear Diary,

   I can’t believe The Silverton Home for Girls has been open for several months now! Time sure flies, but life has been so good. Not long ago this was just a big dusty mansion with not a bit of love, but now it’s a home echoing with laughter and joy in every corner. 

   In the evenings I sit out back on the porch swing and watch. I watch the girls running back and forth, enjoying the space to really breath—space some of them have never known. I watch the chickens pecking around the ground for bugs, before finally making their way to their coop before darkness fully covers the land. I watch the sun slowly sink into the horizon, casting a beautiful orange glow over all the yard. 

     Well, it’s getting too dark to write further, so I’ll close for now. Keep pressing onward and keep your eyes fixed up toward our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. When we fix our eyes on ourselves or this world we feel hopeless and discouraged. It’s only when we fix our eyes on Him that we can have true peace.

   Farewell!

   -Evangeline 

Dear Diary, Today I'm Pondering These Dear Girls...

Here is a beautiful mountain view I passed on my way to Colorado!

December 18th, 1932

     Dear Diary,

     Today I'm pondering these dear girls' lives. They've been through so much. Most of them lost both parents; some were abandoned. Rare is the case that they were lovingly brought here. If losing their parents isn't enough, then they usually are sent to various relatives' houses, tossed to-and-fro like a useless item no one has time for. After that, they are sent to some orphanage often filled with dirt, rats, and fleas, where they're taken care of by an exhausted, worn-out keeper. Before long, they're often sent to another orphanage, where they're a stranger all over again. Not all orphans have an ending like mine—adopted at age six by loving parents, raised in a clean and warm home, and taught about Jesus. No, most of them live at orphanages for the rest of their childhoods, then are off on the streets, unprepared and owning nothing. I've never considered how blessed I am before. It's my duty to help these girls.

     Note: The McGradys take care of the girls the best they can! They show more love to the children than any orphanage keeper I've ever met. The examples I gave were about most orphanages. The McGradys may be poor, but they are rich in love.

Twenty-six girls with stories like mine:

Orphaned, abandoned, just plain left-behind.

Some still remember their families long passed;

Some were just infants when they saw them last.

Twenty-six girls with stories so vast

Were brought to this home, where they're loved at long last.

But still, they hold memories of things long ago,

Places they've went, and people they've known.

Will they ever move on past the horrors of time?

Forgiveness and peace, will they ever find?

O Lord, how I beg Thee, please speak to their souls!

Fill them with hope, please make them all whole.

Fixing up the Attic

December 16, 1932    

     Dear Diary,

     You won't believe the transformation this old attic's gone through! Yes, it was an exhausting day, but oh, so worth it.

     Yesterday afternoon, when I first climbed up that dark, narrow staircase to peek into my future living corners, I'll admit, I was quite dismayed. As soon as I stepped foot up here I started coughing; I could barely breathe. The air was so musty; it smelled like rotten animals. I could see dust floating through the air, and there was layer of dirt covering everything. Even the floorboards looked awful, lying loosely on the ground. There was some dingy furniture lying about, but I could hardly tell whether they were useable or not for the thick layer of residue coating them.

     Suddenly though, I noticed something beautiful. Streaming through a crack in a broken shutter, I saw light pouring in. Yes, it was only a little, but somehow, that light gave me hope. The part of the floor, wall, and beams that were in the ray's path had a sort of beauty to them. I wanted to see what the attic would look like if the whole thing was covered in that light.

     Looking around, I noticed that there were actually six such windows. Quickly I went to each one, unlocking the wooden shutters and pushing them open. As I went through the room, opening each one, more and more light rushed in, filling every nook and cranny of this once dark attic. When I was finished, I went over to the doorway and once again stood looking in. Now I saw a worn, but beautiful attic, holding all sorts of stories in the cracks between the floorboards, the holes in the walls, and the furniture, lying unused for years and years, maybe decades. Somehow, this peaceful scene reminded me of the tranquil beauty of an old woman. Like her, this attic had seen many years go by, many people, many times. I reveled in that thought, but only for a second, for I was eager to get started restoring it. 
     I went and found Mrs. McGrady and asked if she had any cleaning supplies I could use. I was thrilled when she led me to a closet filled with all the brooms, mops, rags, and soap you could ask for! "When we first opened up, so many kind people donated supplies like these," Mrs. McGrady gratefully exclaimed. I started grabbing up a pile of supplies I thought I could use, and was on my way to the attic when I noticed a bunch of the girls watching me.
     "Are you planning to clean that big ol' attic by yerself?" sweet Katie asked, her eyes full of wonder. 
     "Well," I began slowly, "It sure would take a while, wouldn't it?" Though I hated the thought of being a burden to them, I knew I certainly could use some extra hands. Not only that, but I thought it would be a great opportunity to get to know the girls better. "Would any of you like to help?" I asked.
     "Me!" "Me!" came shouts from various girls, and soon I was once again making my way to the attic, only this time with twenty girls behind me! I was surprised at their eagerness! Even Charity, the oldest girl, came along to join in on the fun. I had heard from Mrs. McGrady that although she had come of age, they had told her she could stay here for as long as she wanted. 
     Passing the cleaning supplies around, we quickly got to work. Some of the girls began dusting the furniture, some sweeping the floor, and some wiping the walls with soapy rags. I could tell most of them had had a lot of experience cleaning, for they moved quickly and thoroughly around the room. Or, most of them did. One girl, who said her name is "Isabella Margarita", stood in the middle of the room. "It smells in here," she would say, or, "It's ever-so chilly." I really don't know why she even bothered to come up here, but I suppose that's none of my concern. My job is to show love to all the girls, no matter what they're like. 
     By evening, the attic was squeaky clean! Together, we began moving the furniture around till it looked rather cozy. There was a dresser in one corner, which, although missing a few of the drawer handles, still worked rather well. Then there was a little table which I set an oil lamp on, along with a pitcher and basin we found in a chest on the far side. Oh yes, the chest! We found a chest covered with cobwebs, which had a few interesting little knick-knacks in it. Once cleaned, that too looked rather nice. Lastly, Mr. McGrady carried up the cot I had slept on the night before, and I spread my colorful patchwork quilt on it which I had brought from India.
     How thankful I am! It looks so nice in here, with the moonlight streaming in and everything so clean! Sitting on my quilt and holding my dear journal makes me feel like I'm back home again. 

     Did you enjoy reading about my day? Do any of you keep a diary? How do you like my new header? I'd love to hear from you!

-Evangeline

Dear Diary, I'm finally here...

December 14th, 1932

  Dear Diary,

  I'm finally here. India, my home, is over 8,000 miles away. Everyone I know is across the Coloradan mountains, over the endless Pacific, and on the other side of the enormous country of China. 

  I arrived at the Bluebridge Home for Girls last night. Mr. and Mrs. McGrady, the orphanage keepers, seem friendly. They said I could stay and help with some of the cleaning and cooking. I hope to do more than that though.

  The girls are all darling. I hope I can get acquainted with each and every one of them during my time here. After all, each of them has their own story. Some of them are even from the Salem Orphange...

  I don't know how long my time here is, so I hope to get started as soon as I can. After all, if I can be called to go to Colorado as suddenly as I was, I'm sure I can be called away just as fast. Truly, no one can understand God's ways. 

  I wonder how Mama Sarah and Papa Robert are doing. I wrote to them when I first landed in America, but I really ought to write again, to let them know my address. Oh, how I miss them! Last night as I lay in bed, I recalled the morning I left India. They and several other families from the mission house had accompanied me to the train station, and as we waited for the train to pull away, they sang from the sidewalk, "God Be With You Till We Meet Again." That song is one of the most beautiful and touching songs I can think of. It was so special to have them all waving as the train pulled out of the station and slowly chugged away. I waved until they were long out of sight, my eyes watering as I thought of the many months it would most likely be until I saw them again. 

  Well, the sun is dawning over the horizon, and I want to go see what I can help Mrs. McGrady with. I hope I can be a blessing to her, rather than a burden. I know I'll be another mouth to feed, but hopefully I can work enough to make up for that.

  I'll be sure to write in here again soon!

 -Evangeline