NOY

I've not thought about her for many years. That all changed today. This morning I was reading about the after-effects of the war in Iraq. The article talked about the orphans of the war. Then it came back to me.

It was in early 1969 and I was an Airman stationed at Ubon Airfield in eastern Thailand. I was there only a few weeks and I decided to visit the local orphanage. It was run by a group of nuns and was called the Ave Maria Orphanage. As I walked in I was greeted by one of the nuns as well as by at least 6 one to two-year olds holding up their arms wanting to be picked up. I took turns picking up the little ones while following around the nun who patiently tried to explain in broken English how they cared for the orphans. The nun and I took a liking to each other and I stayed there for the better part of the morning talking to her and playing with the orphans. But who were these kids and why were they there?

It didn't take long for me to figure that out.

As with all wars, these kids were a product of our presence in Southeast Asia. They were the unwanted children of American soldiers, sailors and airmen who were called to duty in the Vietnam War. As was common then, the kids were considered outsiders as mixed-race Thai children and were, in many cases, sent to orphanages. 

One of the kids there was a small girl named "Noy". Noy is a very common name in Thailand and, seemingly, about half of the girls there were also named Noy. This particular girl would run to me each time that I visited the orphanage and was always in the head of the line of kids that would crowd around wanting to be picked up and held. I figured that she was either an exceptional runner or was more motivated than the others. 

While the first few times there I just spent time visiting, I found that there were some unmet needs that could be addressed. Specifically, the orphanage building had some maintenance issues that the nuns were unable to address given the fact that they were so busy caring for the kids. To help them out, I was able to scrounge some supplies and tools from the base as well as getting a few of my buddies to spend their day off doing some work at the orphanage. We poured concrete, patched the roof, painted, cleaned and took care of some of the things that needed fixing.

To be sure, It was really no big deal but, to the nuns who worked there we were heroes.

I made it a habit to continue visiting the orphanage at least every few weeks and helping out wherever I could. And, yes, little Noy would always be there ahead of the pack of anxious kids wanting some attention. It always made me feel good that she was quick to climb into my arms when I arrived there.

As my year in Thailand came to a close, I decided to make my last visit to the nuns and to the kids. This time, I brought a friend of mine to the orphanage in hopes that he would continue the practice of helping out the good people who worked so hard to care for the children there. As we walked together through the front door, predictably a herd of youngsters was running toward us with Noy in the lead. I had warned my buddy about this and he was ready for the onslaught. I knelt down in anxious anticipation of Noy climbing into my arms.

Instead, she made a detour at the last second and climbed into the arms of my buddy. I was shocked at first but the truth dawned on me in a matter of seconds.

I had mistakenly thought that Noy and I had established a bond of sorts but such was not the case. These kids were so in need of individual attention, that they would jump into the arms of anyone who would willingly accept them. I suppose that that is the nature of people, kids especially, who have been rejected, as was the case with these orphans.

Several days later my tour in Southeast Asia was complete. As my C-130 left Ubon, it banked to the right, heading on a southwest course to Bangkok. I didn't have a window to enjoy the view but I would have liked to have grabbed one last glance at the orphanage. I thought about the concrete steps that we poured, the blue paint that we splattered generously on the siding and the roof that no longer leaked. Mostly though, I imagined the pack of kids, led by little Noy, noisily running across the well-worn wooden floors of the orphanage and happily jumping into the arms of a complete stranger.

Noy would be in her mid-40's now. I hope that she has found acceptance, love and happiness.

Readers, enjoy your day.