By Tracy Schruder
I was only six years old when Ronald Pinser, a burly, middle-aged social worker with a kind face and warm smile, brought me to Sutton Place for fostering. Both my parents had died tragically in a whitewater rafting accident. I was an only child, and I had no living family members who could take me in. So, there I was, a tiny, scared boy, all alone in a big world, with nothing but Ronald’s reassuring hand to hold.
“Are you ready, Michael?” Ronald asked, his voice gentle and soothing.
“Yes, I am ready,” I replied, trying to sound brave. “Let’s go meet the people inside.”
As we walked up the stairs, I noticed the bright yellow paint on the doors . “I really like yellow,” I said, my eyes widening with excitement. “It was my mom’s favorite color. She would like this place, I think.”
Ronald smiled and nodded. “I think you’ll like it here too, Michael. The Conroys are wonderful people. They’ll take good care of you.”
The left side yellow door opened, and there were two jolly-looking souls standing less than four feet tall, with smiles just as wide. Mimi, a petite woman with curly brown hair and a warm smile, welcomed me with open arms.
“Welcome, Michael!” she exclaimed. “I’m Mimi, and this is Carter, my husband. We’re so glad to have you stay with us. Come in, come in!”
Carter, a tall, lanky man with a kind face and a mop of grey hair, reached out and shook my hand. “Good to meet you, Michael,” he said, his voice deep and rumbling. “We’re happy to have you join our family.”
As I entered the Conroys’ home, I was struck by the warm and welcoming atmosphere. The living room was filled with comfortable furniture, colorful rugs, and shelves lined with books and family photos. Mimi showed me to the kitchen, where she had set out a plate of fresh cookies and a glass of cold milk.
“Help yourself, Michael,” she said, smiling. “You must be hungry after your journey.”
As I ate and drank, Mimi introduced me to my two foster brothers, Sam and Paul. They were both older than me, with messy brown hair and mischievous grins.
“Hey, Michael,” Sam said, clapping me on the back. “Welcome to the family. We’re glad to have you.”
Paul nodded in agreement. “Yeah, it’s great to have a new brother. We’ll show you the ropes around here.”
As the days turned into weeks, I settled into the Conroys’ home and life perfectly. I went to school, made new friends, and helped out with chores around the house. Ronald visited me regularly, and I was grateful for his support and guidance.
Years later, when I turned 18, I left the Conroys’ home and went on to become a social worker, just like Ronald. I never lost touch with him, and over the years, we became very close, like father and son.
Together, we opened a residential school for boys, where only boys who were in the system could attend and live like a large family. We named the school Sutton Place, in memory of the Conroys, and designed it to be a warm and welcoming place, just like their home.
The school’s pledge was: “Once you pass the yellow door, every door will open from today to forevermore.” And as I looked out at the grey brick building with its bright yellow trim, I knew that I had found my true calling, and that the Conroys’ legacy would live on through me.
Fiction – Word count: 623 words.
Entered into blank spaces contest February 9 2025
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