There was a small town called Parkersville that was one of the most dull and predictable places in recorded history. Its' population was just over a thousand and it was located in the part of Pennsylvania that was devoid of any major roads or tourist attractions. It was, as the few people who made a wrong turn and had driven through the small village, a rather unremarkable place.
So it was that in this rather unremarkable place that something remarkable occurred. People who study remarkable things always say that it shouldn't be surprised when something unexpected happens in an unexpected place. It would simply not make a good plot and that is how it occurs here.
So it was that something remarkable happened but went unnoticed by all except for one resident in that small town of Parkersville. That particular resident didn't witness the event itself or even acknowledge the significance of the event. They simply saw the result and dealt with it in the way they saw fit.
This remarkable event happened to be an arrival. Any other passersby would have simply waved the arrival off as a trick of the light and promptly pushed it from their mind. This was unfortunate because if they had decided to investigate into the matter they would have discovered something beyond even their comprehension. This remarkable event occurred on the property of a Mr. Krohn. Mr. Krohn was not at home, if he was he no doubt would have been furious that it occurred on his beloved garden. The yard was dominated by a large California Oak that cast protective shadows over the carefully tended flora. Sadly no one stopped when they saw the shadows warp and concentrate into a small shapeless lump and then seemingly deposited a small boy onto the grass underneath the tree. He had a bewildered expression which was quickly contained behind a mask of careful indifference.
He was an odd looking child. Rather small and thin with pale skin and grey eyes that had a tendency to betray his emotions that were otherwise bottled up. He had white-blonde hair that seemed silver in a certain light. His clothing, although slightly rumpled, were of very expensive fabric and showed he was of a respectable first person to notice this child was a woman in her late fifties that went by the name Mrs. Hidner.
Mrs. Hidner had a tendency to notice things that other people seemed to look over. She was the kind of woman that saved coupons from the daily paper and was able to save hundreds of dollars on her monthly shopping trips. She was a small plump woman whose entire manner of speaking announce that she was used to caring for children. She had, in fact, four of her own who were now off in their separate lives but she still took care to write to them weekly.
It so happened that she noticed the small child standing almost hidden in the shadows when she was on her evening walk. Had the child been in any other yard then she would have kept walking, but the child was in Mr. Krohn's yard. It was a well known fact that Mr. Krohn was not fond of children and would not tolerate them stepping foot on his immaculate lawn. Mrs. Hidner was certain that the child didn't belong there. He was too well dressed to be from around the neighborhood.
As Mrs. Hidner stood and looked at the strange child who stared curiously back she realized she had two decisions. She could leave the child for someone else to find and be spared the burden of finding where he came from or she could take the boy with her and help him as best she can. Her face softened as she gazed upon the intelligent eyes that were filled with unshed tears. Mrs. Hidner sighed, her motherly instincts won and she motioned for the boy to come closer.
"Come with me dearie, I 'll help you find your mother and father." The boy approached reluctantly and sniffled before replying,
"Volo ire in domum suam." The voice was almost inaudible and Mrs. Hidner had to lean in to hear. She frowned, "Dearie I don't understand, but if you want me to help you I will. You can come to my home and then we can look into finding your parents."
She could see the confliction in his eyes but the boy eventually took her outstretched hand. Mrs. Hidner smiled warmly at the small boy. "What do you think about some homemade cookies with some milk? My youngest son, Bryson, will becoming this evening and I made some with chocolate chips to welcome him home but I'm sure he can spare a few for you." She was rewarded with a tentative smile from the small boy. With a warm feeling in her heart she led the strange boy to her home.