"The nearest thing to heaven is a child" is a line of lyric from the Hit Song "Thank God For Kids" by Eddy Raven, a Raggae, Cajun, and Country music singer and songwriter.

Originally written in 1976 "Thank God For Kids" has been recorded by several popular Performers including Kenny Chesney in 2004 on his album "All I Want For Christmas Is A Real Good Tan" and John Rich in 2011 for his Extended Play "For The Kids"

Perhaps the most famous version of the song was released on November 20, 1982 by the Oak Ridge Boys on their 1982 MCA Records album known as "Christmas". Their song spent sixteen weeks on the Billboard Hot Country Songs chart and peaked at Number Three on that chart.

Eddy Raven tells the story he sat down to write a song, not "Thank God For Kids", and his three- year-old son Ryan came in the room with his toy guitar and asked him what he was doing. So, he told him. Raven further elaborated that Ryan told his father he would help him write the song. Then, Sesame Street came on tv and Ryan ran out of the room to go watch the program. This led to Raven writing "Thank God For Kids".


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I SAW A WIND-BENT SIGN FOR NASHVILLE ARCADE GAMES. That got me thinking sometimes I wished I could keep my otherwise big mouth locked in a cage. There are those occasions when I tended to express whatever is on my mind regardless how it spewed forth. This was one of those incited incidents.

"No matter what may be your lot in life build something on it," these words from Dusty West have always resonated with me. They are so full of truth.

(Time out for a short commentary)

An indictment I have always held against the adoption system is the fact it seemed nobody wanted to adopt hard-to-place children like I was. Most people wanted adoptees to be newborns they could raise the way they wanted the kid to grow up. For many prospective adopters the disease of older children, their cancer so to speak, was their age. That is the unfortunate reality of life.

For senior citizens of the adoption world, those who are already set in their ways, more times than not, they simply aged out of the system at either 18 or 21. This depended on the state in which they resided. I figured that certainly would be my experience. However, older children have emotions and feelings too. They needed to belong to a stable environment where they received proper guidance, not just be window-dressing.

As I reflected on these comments, the feelings I had back then returned to me in a flood. I felt like a dog in the pound nobody wanted. You know the one I am talking about. I'm sure you all have seen them several times.

These are the dogs who are curled up in a tight ball in the far corner of their cages with their ears pinned tightly down, and the saddest expressions on their faces. Why are they demonstrating these emotions? Because they knew no matter what they did it was never going to be good enough to make anybody love them and take them home.

Like these unwanted dogs, I was nothing more than a toy to be played with for a short period of time, then cast aside when something more alluring came along. It happened over and over and over again each time someone considering adopting a child came to Hermitage Hall. Nothing more than the Children Are Cute To Look At, They Are Fun To Play With, But Go Home With Somebody Else Syndrome that so viciously repeated itself.

One thing was sure. I would never allow any thoughts of suicide to enter my mind as I knew they had with other boys at Hermitage Hall. On many days, especially those filled with rejection, self-slaughter, the very act of causing my own death, would have been a viable option. Boy, I can hear the responses that comment is going to elicit.

Unless, and until, you have walked a mile in the shoes of an unwanted child packed inside an orphanage like a can of sardines, can you really, honestly, and truly tell me I should not have felt that way? That I should have just kept a stiff upper lip? That everything was going to be okay? Believe me when I tell you, for many children in my situation at that time, those words are hollow and contained no meaning.

Suicide was not my forte. As I saw the plight I was in, it would have been the coward's way out. After all, I was only twelve years old then. I just knew there had to be a life waiting for me out there somewhere beyond the confining walls of Hermitage Hall. That was what I always held on to. That singular thought kept me going. One way or another, my ship was going to come sailing in and I would go floating away on the river I was destined to discover.

If you were to Google this information you would discover there are presently more than 122,000 older children available for adoption out there right now waiting to become anything other than Unwanted Dogs. There are enough potential adoptees to fill the populations of at least one hundred American cities with 100,000 residents. These include localities such as Rochester, Minnesota; Ann Arbor, Michigan; and Hartford, Connecticut just to name a few.

Here are some other facts:

-5,000,000 Americans have been adopted
-2 to 4 percent of American families have adopted
-2.5 percent of all American children under 18 years old are adopted

(Time back in)

(TO BE CONTINUED:)

In Chapter 12 feeling brazen and bold as I departed the gas station I pilfered the soda in, I decided if I was going to remain on the streets I needed to be armed. A dangerous situation for a youngster with nothing but time on his hands. I had a real good notion where to find exactly what I sought.