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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required True stories are often the saddest, so go to another poem if you are afraid of this one. Seventy-five years ago a Mommy died leaving a boy of two with her husband, a farmer. The husband was a father, but no Daddy; he plopped the motherless child in an orphanage. But refused to relinquish his rights, even though several families wanted to adopt the toddler. The toddler grew up in the orphanage, and reached the sad age of fourteen, one of the few to do this. When he was fourteen, his father came by and picked him up to go home which was his right. He did not recognize his father who was harsh, and as you can see, not a fair or nice man. With a father like this is it any wonder the child had difficulty at school and got into many a fight? As soon as he was able, the toddler-orphanage-lost-fighter-child joined the service and left the state. The service was terrific for him, he knew how to share a room, and live in a bunk bed, second classed. The man who told me this story explained that this lost child was his father, but he never spoke of this. Not wanting his family to know what a horrible life he had as a child. His children who adored him learned of it after he passed. He was the kindest, most gentle father in the world, my friend told me. He always hugged us. He could not tell us that he loved us enough. He said it so many times it embarrassed my mother, But it pleased my older sister, and me, and of course, my one and only brother, Big Maddy. The man who told me this story had tears in his eyes for that little boy, his own sweet neglected Daddy.
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