Thy Kingdom come…
Mihael was no longer a Keehl, but an orphan.
For a year, he was shuffled back and forth between different orphanages and boarding houses. He spoke little, made no friends. He was lonely, ridiculed, and lost.
During the beginning of this, his only worldly possessions were the clothes on his back and the rosaries. The clothes, he cared little about, but the rosaries he held more dear to him than his own life, because they represented the family and the world he had lost. They were both a comforting physical companion to memories and a painful reminder of the burdens he bore.
Because of his rosaries and his prayers, Mihael was often forced to sit quietly and take the insults and the bullying from other children at the orphanages. While something in the back of his mind always pulled at him, urging him to fight back, his faith pleaded otherwise, and he had no choice but to hold back for fear of being struck down by God's wrath at any retaliation.
It was obvious from the start that Mihael the orphan did not fit in.
Perhaps this was why his parents had kept him so sheltered, he reassured himself. Out of love, they had kept him restricted to home and the cathedral. They'd taught him of spelling and math and those things at home, because school would have corrupted him. They'd kept him away from improper subjects, and far from the angry, hateful, sinful cruelty of other children.
Out of love, Mihael had never been allowed to simply be a child.
Out of love.
He had grown up with the blanketing love of his parents, and, now, with them gone, all he had to trust in was the all-powerful love of the Father, the Son, and the blessed virgin Mary.
Mihael was loved, even as the other children pulled his hair and called him names.
But, soon, he couldn't help but to begin to doubt. He couldn't help but to feel so utterly alone, that the prayers once again turned to pleas. "Dear God, please let someone take me away from here. Please let me find a home."