Joan and Avery

Joan was a lovely girl just admitted into the ward along with her younger sister. Both had fiery hair and orange complexions peppered with brown freckles. They smiled willingly and approved of all kinds of breakfast cereals so long as they were allowed to eat it dry, that is with the milk in a glass on the side. I could not guess their exact ages but they certainly were not out of primary school. They would join me in the fall at the education building for basics in math, reading, and writing.

The sister was shorter and skinnier, her clothes often hung about her body like a flag on a windless day. Her name was Avery. She stayed close to Joan and wouldn't speak without looking for formal approval.

No one could say for sure why they came to our house for children but they story was nearly the same for any of us ... deceased parents.