Mending the broken smiles.

their smiles-priceless(i didn't meant the word earlier, it was some typing mistake.sorry).

#1
He looked at the young people. All of them were smiling. All of them looked friendly. One of them came over and sat behind him. He stood up from the floor, stumbled a little and fell on his knees. He saw all the other children sitting on the laps of the young men and women. He wanted it too. He bit his lips, held back the minor pain which was spreading across his knees, and crawled towards the young man behind him. He looked up at the young man. The young man was smiling at him alright. He supported himself up clumsily and sat on the crossed legs of the young man.

The young boy was no more than 3. And he was crawling towards me. He stood up in front of me and sat right on my crossed legs. I took hold of his hand and asked him his name. All i could hear was a murmur. He lied down comfortably on my shoulders throughout the show.

And he grasped on one of the young man's fingers with his tiny little palm.

And he never let go of it.

#2

There was a show. Of which one of the orphans, who had some problems physically and mentally (i guess) sang in front of all the visitors. It was monotonous. There was no dynamics. And yet, i was touched to tears.Just a random feeling there. A random feeling when you look at these whole bunch of kids. Looking at you. Craving for a little love and care. A little hug or pat. Looking at you. Showing you what they can do. Trying to show that they are also one of us. Looking at you. Wishing if they had parents just like you do. Wishing if they had siblings just like you do.

The boy's name is Samuel.

#3
She looked at the younger children playing along with the visitors.

Oh, if only she could.

But she knew she couldn't, she's too old to play along. What will the others say about her? What if the others said she's too childish? What if the visitors don't allow her to play with them? She know what it's like to being cared and loved for. When she was younger, the feeling was more obvious. A vivid memory of feeling love is when someone put his or her arms around you, and you feel secure and you know that someone is there to care for you. But she's too old to ask for that now.

So she sat by the side of the small hall. Looking at the visitors and children playing together, laughing and racing around. Looking at the younger ones, being carried around by the visitors, with smiles of joy and happiness on their faces.

Oh, if only she were that young.

A young man from the group of visitors walked towards her and sat down beside her. And when the young man was to take pictures with the other children, he pulled her along by his side and laid a hand on her shoulder.

And the camera snapped a picture of a blossoming radiant smile of a young orphan girl.

telling them stories-like how your parents would.

p/s went to an orphanage today. And i learned so much.