To my dearest Moses,
I am in no rightful position to ask of you such as I am about to now, yet I knew, and do know, that you will agree to not only help an old friend, but someone more who may very well be in great need of a good many things that only you, Moses, could truly offer.
I have just met a young man, name of James Hiller, who I am told has traveled from New York in search of me. When I inquired as to where his father may be, it was with a heavy heart that he told me his father and mother are late, after a lightning storm started a fire and destroyed the Hillers' home, killing them both and leaving James an orphan at a terribly young age.
James has told me that it is his dearest wish to become a journalist. He carries with him a journal that once belonged to his father, though the late man had never written among any of the pages. He offered it to me to read, and I must impress upon you the quality with which the boy can write. James is a natural. He is in want of some work, as he has traveled far from home not only looking to be mentored in journalism, but looking for something more, something that, like I have said before, only you could truly offer to him.
James is in need of a family. You may inquire as to why I myself am thoroughly incapable of giving him such as this. I am an old man, Moses, seemingly more a grandfather in the eyes of this young man than a father. I can, at least, sympathize with young James, but can do no more than this. He does not need an old man's sympathy; why, he has, no doubt, been offered sympathy all his life, whether in want of it or no, whether it stands helpful or no. You see I would be of no lasting help to James. But you, Moses, could be. You are young and could be more the picture of a father to James than I. You are experienced in journalism. I have stood witness to the nature of your being. You stand as everything James is in need of, and is in want of. Your patience, the gentleness of both your heart and hands, your calm and intelligent insight, if I may be so bold as to say it, into the dealings of our world through your personal journey in this life, all could give James the greatest of what he's never had, and that is a family.
If you agree to take James Hiller on as an apprentice in the shop, for which I would remain forever in gratitude, I shall ride him by to you the eve of the coming Sunday, as for him to begin work on the following morning.
With regards, Dr. Benjamin Franklin
Dr. Franklin-
I am agreed to take James on as my apprentice in the shop, but I am disagreed as to my capability to serve as family to this young man. I can indeed sympathize with James, but as you have said, sympathy is not what he is in need or want of; rather, a family. I am not sure I would know how to become such as this for him. I have no children of my own. I cannot be sure that James would be willing to accept my offer of adopting him, for lack of a proper word. And, if I may, my past would mean nothing to him, as I presume he was the son of a white man, and what good is it to James if the one he may call family cannot relate to him in such an important sense?
Regardless of these thoughts, I stand firm in my agreement and my promise to offer James as much as I can not only as a mentor, yet as a friend, someone whom James may trust both in his work and his life, as my duty by you and this young man.
I shall arrive to your current quarters to meet James on the eve of this coming Sunday, as agreed; there will be no need for you to come. I am in need of some more rolls of parchment and bottles of ink, as well as the spare piece to the press that was ordered from Boston. I shall be seeing you soon.
Respectfully yours, Moses