Angels From Home
Note and Disclaimer: Obviously, I still don't own M*A*S*H and its characters, plots and storylines. Just thought I'd give the old Padre another story for the board.
It was a chilly, albeit sunny, day in February as I drove the heavy Army truck down to the orphanage. Next to me in the truck on the passenger side sat Klinger who, with a change of heart, decided to come with me instead of thinking of another escape plan, as he has been for some time now. With a thick dress and coat on (as well as a weighty heart), Klinger sat quietly, pondering, as it were, about the unfairness this world has given these poor children. This I knew, after seeing his face the last few times he came to the orphanage with me.
As we neared the orphanage and passed by its crumbling gates, Klinger finally spoke. "Gee, Father, this truck seems to be carrying a lot heavier load than most days."
"Well, it's because we are on a pretty heavy mission ourselves." I was quiet too, seeing the children run up the truck as I slowed down and parked. "Come on. Let's give these children some cheer before we leave. At least we break their monotony and not the shelling."
Klinger smiled in reply, opening his side of the truck and jumping out, giving the orphans a huge grin as he opened his arms for a hug. "Come on, kids. Come see Aunt Klinger in action! We got some nice things for you!"
Sister Theresa came up to me when I climbed out of the truck myself, shaking her head with some happiness in her own smile. "Father, you didn't have to come today," she said with some worry as Klinger whizzed by us, children chasing him to the back. "We have some blankets and roofing supplies, but you didn't need to come this far south to keep us company."
"Oh, it is nothing, Sister," I replied back, walking with her to the back of the truck as Klinger and the children started pulling out the boxes and taking them apart with glee. "It's a weekly trip that I look forward to. And it cheers them. What is a better gift for us?"
Sister Theresa nodded her head in agreement and then climbed carefully into the truck to assist Klinger. I also went inside it, carrying out loads upon loads for the children outside. However, as we took out more and more boxes, more so than I can remember loading on the day before, the children grew more and more excited. As they opened each one and took them inside for us, I noticed that there was not only the essential shelter supplies, blankets, food and medical necessities, but there were also some toys, picture books, winter gear and other clothing and even some pillows and wooden parts, to put together for beds. And each child had a bed, pillow, winter clothes and some toys and books to themselves.
I was surprised, to say the least, and so were Klinger and Sister Theresa. As they both finished their work along with me, the three of us went inside to the small, cozy fire, sitting down as the children played with their new things. The wooden pieces for the bed will be put together later, before Klinger and I left for the 4077th again.
"Thank you so much, Father, Corporal Klinger," Sister Theresa started as we warmed up in the February cold. "I don't know what we could have done without you. This…this is amazing!"
As one little girl cuddled closer to Klinger, just for warmth and comfort surely, I could not resist telling the truth. "Sister, some of those things I don't remember putting in there, quite honestly."
"I don't either," Klinger confessed as well. "I carried in what was on the list from Major Houlihan."
"Then, who could have done this wonderful thing to these children?" Sister Theresa then asked, fearful almost of the mysterious helper.
As if to answer our question, a little boy came out and held out a note for me. "Paper," he said, giving it to me and standing there, wanting me to read it to him.
I obliged, reading the typed words silently first, and then quickly, before letting the others know what the contents were.
To Sister Theresa, Father Mulcahy, Corporal Klinger and others –
I do know that it is passed Christmas and it is quite late in the season for everything, but it could not come any sooner than this month. I do apologize for the lateness, but to hear of the joy in a child's face any time of the year is more than welcome in our own humble hearts here at home and in Korea.
You see, I've been trying to give more to these lost children. They've lost a home, their families and their innocence through this war. It is no laughing matter to anyone that they have also lost food, shelter and clothing, the basic needs of a human being. In these times of destruction and hate, we all have to remember the delicate thread of life children possess and hold it to one's own heart. And to remember this is to help them.
With the help of lots of people at home and in Korea, we have gathered together as much as we can for these children. It's not a lot and I wish we could have given more, but to at least give them what they need, much more than the Army can, will at least help them to become alive again, to be the children that they should been and not the victims of a war gone wrong.
Please forgive me for not giving enough though, all of you. I will do the best I can, even in the future.
May God bless and keep you –
Captain Jonathan S. Tuttle
"Captain Tuttle? Who is this Captain Tuttle?" Sister Theresa asked, peering over to me and Klinger, inquisitive lines drawing on her face.
Klinger shook his head, to deny anything in this almost illegal act, but I had some small idea as to who he – they, I should say – is. And I wasn't going to be giving up their identities anytime soon, for to do so would endanger them and, believe it or not, disappoint the children.
When there was little more than silence and the crackling of the small fire, I only answered, "Captain Tuttle is not known to us, but he seems to be a fine officer and one I would need to find out more about. Give me some time, Sister, and hopefully, we all will be able to thank this little angel when he is found."
"Amen," Sister Theresa and Klinger (strangely enough) said together.
"Furthermore," I continued, "should we remember that a time of giving is not restricted to once or twice a year, but anytime of the year. And let us thank God for this breathtaking gift and for Captain Tuttle."
As the children giggled and played around us, running with this and that toy and trying on their new clothes, I could not help but wonder. I mean, how did these things get on the truck when it was guarded all of last night? Could it have taken two people to gather more than what was given to the children? And, more mysterious than that, how did so much of it so unnoticed in a camp full of gossipers and busybodies? For surely, it came from or nearby the 4077th!
No need to think about it now, Francis, I admonished myself as I sat down, relaxing as another little girl came up to me, this time with a picture book. Find out later. After all, angels have wings and can take off at anytime.