Muses and cherubim...

Dusty and worn, the dress she wears reveals the hard years that the cherubic face conceals. It was faded and yellowed in places, but retained the delicate nature of the lace and ribbons used to accent it. The petticoats rustle gently when she moves.

She sits silently in a corner holding her own hands as people walk by looking for additions to their family, silently wishing that she, too, could find a home and not need to return here to wait any more. Every day drags on into the next. Time has passed and as it goes, it becomes more difficult to measure.

One of her slippers dangles from her toes as her feet hang over the edge of the box on which she sits. The crushed and faded green velvet finish diffuses the harsh lighting of the bare florescent fixtures overhead. It twinkles faintly if one were to look closely enough.

She is quiet and contemplative in this austere setting among all the riffraff and cast-offs. Pieces of someone else's past hoping to become another's future. Her past is filled with changes, happy homecomings and eventually the growing apart and becoming orphaned. She contemplates that Puff experienced similar problems with the boys, she is sure of it.

Over there a brown-haired boy in a sailor's uniform stands at attention behind the glass wall, looking out over the hallway. His face is broken and his uniform stained with dirt and blood, but he stands proud, none the less.

Sounds fill the building as the days crawl on. Nearby she can hear jumbles of conversation as negotiations take place in other parts of the room. The attendants noisily devour their lunches between phone calls and the ringing of the front bell. The cars passing by honk and hiss against the damp pavement. Overhead a plane passes and drones off into the distance.

This small booth is the place she waits, daily, until the attendant comes to place her in her little, locked room for the night to protect her from the others. She is fragile and dainty. The rough and tumble life is not for her.

A bustling crowd passes to and fro and barely notices her as they jabber and rush on. Their passing throws dusty white clouds around the room and off to the side a young man coughs and reaches for an old fire truck he has discovered beneath a table.

The tread has long ago worn off of the tires, but it still rolls smoothly as he pushes it around on the floor as he makes siren and explosion noises and shouts "Get that ladder up there!" and "Unfurl those hoses, we don't have much time!"

A woman slows as she passes by and looks into her smiling eyes, so hopeful, but the woman turns and continues on, a connection not quite made. Another missed chance to make someone's life more full.

The sky darkens slowly over the morning hours and the mists give way to more. Still, as the rain patters on the roof overhead, hope garners momentum. A small group of people comes by as the sky releases it's heavy load of water in a sudden rush that startles them. The clash of water on metal rings throughout the great hall and the building trembles.

As the rest of her group continues on to the reception desk to ask questions of a man dressed in a pale green coat, a young woman slows to look at the booth where the porcelain-skinned girl in the faded dress sits.

For a moment the young woman seems not to notice the frilly little dress off in a corner of the little booth but then she looks down at the small hands clasped in the lap and a saddened smile crosses her face.

"Well, hello there." The young woman reaches out and brushes a curl from the rosy cheeks, her voice kind and quiet. "Aren't you just so beautiful?"

She reaches down and picks up the girl as a child dressed in pink overalls walks up behind her. "I'll bet you could use a good home, couldn't you."

"Isn't she beautiful?" The young woman turns and shows the girl to the child.

"Oooh, yes." The child reaches out and touches the dainty curls softly. "So pretty."

"Very pretty." The young woman echoes and reaches for the box on which the girl had been sitting.

"I'll get it." The child in pink takes it so that the woman can carry the girl without dropping her. "I'll take it to the front desk for you."

The girl's eyes close as she leans back into the young woman's arms and her shoe finally falls off and flutters lightly to the floor. It leaves a little impression in the dust for just the moment it is there before another of the young woman's companions returns and picks it up. "She seems to have dropped something."

The man delicately places the slipper back on her foot as he smiles at both the girl and the young woman. His smile continues into thoughtful recognition of the connection between the young woman and the girl in her arms. "I see that you have made a friend. Do you plan to keep her?"

The young woman looks from the man to the girl and back for a moment, contemplating the costs: time, space for the girl and her belongings - however few there are - future clothing, and care.

"Yes, I think I am," The young woman smiles and begins to head for the front desk. "She'll make a wonderful addition to the family."

"Would you like me to carry her?"

"No, she's not heavy at all." The young woman heads carefully up to the attendant at the front desk.

The girl's eyes open as she sits up and watches all the booths and people pass her on the way. Her expression never changes, but her future looks much more bright.

"Ah, I see you have found one of our little treasures." the man behind the counter puts down his sandwich and steps up to the register. He types in a few numbers and waits for the computer to catch up with him. Then he fills out all the paperwork and offers it to the young woman for her signature. "I think you have made a good choice in this little girl."

"I think so, too." The young woman smiles and signs quickly on the line, as though someone might talk her out of it as she leaves ink on paper. "I am going to give her a good home."

She then picks up the porcelain-faced girl, smoothes her dress and places the precious little doll her back into her box, so that the rain does not mar the small, delicate features painted on so long ago.