The Immigrants' Reality

Lost

Their spirits soared that Anna knew them, but her parents

approached her cautiously.   There was not a staff member

in sight to advise them, only other patients, all of whom

seemed oblivious to their presence.

“Anna,” Mary smiled, extending her arms to her without

touching her.  “We have missed you so much, Anna.”

“You are looking well, Anna.  Your brothers and sisters miss

you too.   Grace and Michael are walking now, and John is

studying to be a pharmacist,” Stephan added.

Anna didn’t move or answer, but nodded slightly.  Indeed,

their daughter’s appearance was markedly different.  She

was no longer gaunt, and she seemed better groomed than

the other patients they observed. 

Noticing several empty chairs, Stephan asked, “Can we sit over

there together?”

Anna walked slowly to the chairs, her parents following.  It was

apparent to Stephan and Mary that their daughter had been

sedated, her demeanor calm but flat.  They wanted to hug and

kiss her, but hesitated, fearing they would frighten her.  They

seated themselves in a row, Anna, to their surprise, choosing a

chair with empty chairs on either side of it.

“Anna, your Dada and I love you so much.  Would you allow us

to touch your hands?”  Mary asked in a mild tone.

There was a long pause.  Then, Anna timidly extended her hands.

Stephan and Mary gently touched Anna’s hands, their hearts

joyous at the monumental breakthrough, their eyes filling with

tears.  Anna then withdrew her hands, and placed them folded on

her lap, gazing straight ahead.

“Thank you, Anna,” her father said.  “We are happy to be here with

you today.  One day, we will be able to bring you home with us.”

Anna bristled uncomfortably though her expression didn’t change.

Mary immediately said, “We do not need to talk about that now.”

They sat together in silence for a few minutes.  Mary and Stephan

began making casual conversation, telling Anna about her siblings,

how big they had grown, that they ask about Anna often and wish

she would come home.  Anna visibly reacted, and her parents

stopped speaking.  They just didn’t know what to say or do, so

they sat there with her in silence.

For the first time, Anna spoke.  “I want to stay here,” she said

dully.  She rose and slowly exited the room without a glance at

either of her parents.

Stephan and Mary were stunned.  They couldn’t imagine how

their daughter could want to be at this dreadful place for one

minute much less to have lived in this atmosphere for two years

and still want to stay.  They had no explanation, no choice but to

leave her there in the hospital of horror.

During the long trip back to the farmhouse, Anna’s parents were

deep in thought, discussing their impressions at length.  They

were in turn happy that she knew them and allowed their brief

 touch, and distraught that Anna was neither ready to come home

nor cared to.   They were gratified that she had gained some

weight, but disturbed by her blank expression and the flat tone

in her voice.  Most of all, they felt the acute loss of the child they

once knew.  She was not the same girl they remembered. 

“Stephan, do you think Anna is so strange because of the horrid

surroundings, or is it the medication that is causing her to act that

way?”

“I do not know what to think, Mary.  I am sure she loves us, but

she made it clear that she wants to stay there.”

“What more can we do?  There must be something else we need

to do to get her back!” Mary cried.

“I just cannot think of what that could be,” said Stephan.

Her parents too were lost, traveling a circuitous path in dense woods

that were fraught with unpredictable turns, with no end in view and

a sense that at any moment they would suddenly drop off a cliff.