Silver Dollar Man
The last memory that I have of my father could be said to be very sad but I never had a sad feeling about it mostly feelings of curiosity.
When I was living in the orphanage, I tried very hard to stay out of trouble. One of the best ways to accomplish this was to play by myself and away from the other girls. I also was as quiet as I could be because I didn’t want to draw any attention to myself in any way.
I do not remember the date or even the time of year but I do remember being allowed to play outside on the swingset all by myself. It was a quiet day, the sun was shining, and the usual horde of girls were not around. As I was swinging on the swings, a gentleman came up to me and asked if he could give me a few pushes on the swings. Wow, someone I didn’t know wanted to spend time with me and push me on the swings. This must have been my lucky day. After a short while and several swings later, he stopped the swings and said that we needed to talk.
Boy was I curious. No grown-up ever just wanted to talk to me, especially one I didn’t remember ever seeing before. He got very serious and stooped down in front of the swings and told me that he wouldn’t be able to see me again and told me to always remember him. Then he gave me a silver dollar and walked over to the Infants and Toddlers House.
I was so excited that I ran into the house and told the person in charge all about the silver dollar man and how I would never forget him. Then she took the beautiful silver dollar and said that she would hold it for me. I never saw that silver dollar again.
It wasn’t until some time later that I was talking to my grandmother about the silver dollar man and she told me that he was my father. I have often wished that I knew more about him and hoped that someday I would be walking along the street or opening a letter and the person or letter would read, “Hi, I’m the silver dollar man. Can we talk?”
Update
On the Monday after Easter of 2000, I recieved a letter that I always hoped to get but never really expected. The letter was from my father and in it he says that he always hoped that one of his kids would find him. Now starts another journey, the one called reunion. If you would like to read about my search for my father, please read My Search Journal. Thank you for all of your interest.
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