The Orphanage

There is a place for neglected children. The unloved, the unseen, the unheard. It's a place for the have-nots. A gentle place. Where children who maybe were hurt, or lost, can come to rest. And get to know each other.

This orphanage is unlike any other. It's not in the city, and it's not in the town. It's not in the mountains, and it's not by the sea. You see, this orphanage is an orphanage of love. It's been around for a while, nestled right here, in your warm, gentle heart. And in my heart too.

Our orphanage of love is always open. It's well built, has water and power. And many rooms. It has a sunny playground, and enchanting libraries filled with picture books. It's toasty in winter, and you can feel the breeze in its hallways in summer. The thin drapes flutter a little by the windows.

This orphanage has never said no to anyone who needed love.

Our inner children sometimes have no place to go. So they find themselves in that corner of your heart, where the orphanage is. It's not difficult to find, sometimes it takes a long walk to get there. Other times you just feel it, and it's there. Like a hug, or a kiss.

I like the orphanage of love. Sometimes, I too have nowhere to go. I close my eyes, and I take the same walk many have too. The first steps are heavy, as if I was wearing boots made of despair — filled with sand. But then I see the orphanage, and I feel just like a kid.

The orphanage of love is always open. I like to have a sip from its really cold water fountain. Then, I can sit next to the fireplace, and play with my toys. Or read my book. I always leave a few places next to me. One is for Daria, and one is for you. Right here, by the fire.