Inner Kids

Little children all in a row.
Dirty-faced.
Bright eyed.
Some glare at me.
Some smile.
All are defensive.
I smile,
Introduce myself
And wait,
Still and silent.
One, a freckled redhead,
Shrugs her shoulders in doubt.
Another, hairs straying from her pigtails,
Stands,
Lips aquiver in fear.
I do not push.
I am not forward.
I have time to wait
And will.
Waifs.
Urchins.
Orphans?
Unsure.
Unloved.
Unwashed.
I see their fear.
I know it.
I am well acquainted
With desertion,
Abuse,
Distrusting any adult.
I crouch.
Making myself smaller,
I wait with open heart.
The littlest one,
Diaper askew,
Eyes big,
Dragging a one-eyed Teddy Bear,
Steps forward.
She looks up at me solemn as an owl.
She smiles
Uncertainly,
Tugs at my shirt and asks,
"Hug?"
My heart leaps with joy.