It was a cold night when a small boy ran, with nothing but the clothes on his back and a map of the surrounding area. It was near midnight when the boy stopped running. He was in front of a shelter with an old Victorian appearance. He knocked on the door heaving from exhaustion, and the doors opened, revealing a kindly, old lady.
"What's your name, son?" the lady inquired,
"A- Alexander, Hamilton." the small boy wheezed in between staggered breaths.
"Well come on in Alex. You must be tired." the lady replied. "Speaking of which, where are you from?"
"Unimportant but, I stowed away on a ship to New York, then bought a map of the area, and ran here."
"Wow." the lady whistled quietly, "Quite an achievement for a boy your size."
"It certainly wasn't easy," Alex spoke solemnly.
"Well come on in. It's cold out there, and considering that I'm in a winter coat, and you're in just a thin shirt, pants, and a light jacket."
"Thanks, Mrs. um, what's your name?"
"Mrs. Frello."
"Thanks for taking me in for the night, Mrs. Frello."
"No problem, it's what I do. It's my job to take homeless people for the night and see if they can get a foothold in society the next day if they can't they come back that night. You shouldn't have a problem, though, you'll either find an orphanage to go to, or find a place that takes children for work, you're more likely to end up with the former, though."
When the next day arrived, Hamilton was back on the road, with a heavier coat, a full stomach, and a good night's sleep. Within an hour he had found an orphanage, and yet, hoping he could find somewhere else to go, he avoided it. It was this very decision that caused him to end up living with some of the wealthiest people in America.
Two hours after Alexander had passed by the orphanage, he was walking along the side of the road, the light snow that had fallen overnight crunching under his boots as he shivered. Despite the insurmountable odds, a bright, expensive-looking Volkswagen pulled up beside him. The window rolled down and a sharply-dressed, decorated veteran looked out,
"You okay kid? Where are you from, wherever you are going, I'm willing to get you there. Come on, get in. Take a break from the cold." the veteran said
" Oh, ok sir." Hamilton replied.
" So, where are you from? Where are you going? Oh, pardon my manners, I'm George Washington, I was a general in Iraq, and now I teach elementary school at PS 130." Alex looked at the man and simply replied "Unimportant. I have nowhere to go however, so if you would please point me in the right direction. It would be greatly appreciated." to this Washington replied as follows,
"Whatever do you mean you have nowhere to go? You clearly immigrated so you must have parents to go home to."
"My parents are on Nevis, sir. I stowed away on a ship to New York and just barely had enough money to buy a map of New York at a vendor set up near the port. To put it simply: I'm a parentless, penniless, ragamuffin."
Washington smiled at Alexander's statement of what would otherwise be self-pity but in his case was stated with an aura of simple, factual truth.
"Well, I'll be damned. Sorry for the profanity Alex.
"Oh, it doesn't bother me. The only reason I'm here is because my parents' relationship has gotten to the point where every word to the other is death threats or profanities."
"I'm quite honestly not sure what to do with that information." "But how about this, Alex: I buy you a plane ticket to Nevis because you let slip that your parents are there, and you go back with your parents. I mean you or they have to feel some kind of love for the other. Right?" Washington replied hopefully,
"Mr. Washington, I hate my dad and he hates me. My mom and I love each other but she isn't going to divorce so, I just can't go back." Alexander stated coldly,
"What do we do with you then?"
"Like I said, point me in the right direction to find loving parents or a job."
"I don't know about Nevis but child labor laws in America make it impossible for you to find a job at your age."
"Then show me an orphanage where I can find a set of loving parents," Alexander interjected,
"Well…"
"Well, what?"
"I might be able to get you a set of loving parents"
"What? What do you mean by that?"
"You'll see soon enough."
Washington took his phone out and called who Alex assumed was his wife. Ten minutes later he ended the call and simply said, "Son, you've got parents."
"Who are they? Are they close friends? Are they loving?"
"Alex, it's us."
"Who is us?"
"It's me and Martha, or should I say, Mom."
"So I'm a Washington?"
"Yes."
"Thank you, Mr. Washington. Thank you so much."
"Dad. Just call me dad. No need to be formal, after all, we're essentially father and son as of now."
After a few days living with the Washingtons, Alexander began to open up to George, Martha, and his brother Charles Lee more, (although he still hated it when George or Martha called him Son) and George had decided to enroll him at the same time as his brother in one of New York City's finest public schools.
