Epilogue
ETHEL
It felt like the coldest day of the New Year to Ethel, and she couldn’t understand why the reporter from Good Housekeeping had chosen this location outside of Arlington Hall to do the interview.
The entire Gathers family stood in clusters.
Ethel had wedged herself between Anke and Monika, looping an arm with each.
Both of her eldest daughters looked so impressive in their full-dress army uniforms. Monika’s was decorated with stripes and ribbons; she looked so grown up with her new bob haircut under her flight cap.
Heinz and Franz, also in their service uniforms, flanked Bert, as usual.
Leo was their college boy, while Oti, Mia, and Anton, all teenagers, looked about ready to go home.
It had been a long day but an important one for Ethel and Bert, and she was glad that all of her children were present to witness such a global honor.
The lanky reporter stood a few inches taller than Bert.
“Mr. Gathers, what is it like for you and Mrs. Gathers to receive the Papal Humanitarian Award from Pope Paul VI for your extraordinary work in placing over five hundred mixed-race children with U.S. families, and adopting several children of your own?”
Bert cleared his throat. “It is an honor and a privilege to be presented with this award, but I would be remiss to take much of the credit. My wife, Ethel, has always lived by the motto ‘Do more.’
“The Brown Baby Plan and the adoption agency were her calling, and it was for all intents and purposes a one-woman show. It was Ethel who met with the nuns at the orphanages in Germany and found a way to move the children into loving homes, even when she had to tear down the bureaucratic red tape with her own hands. She churned out article after article reporting on the dire situation of these children and found American families to step up and adopt them. It was because of Ethel’s faith and her refusal to take no for an answer that we stand here before you today with this award. ”
“Thank you,” the reporter said. “Mrs. Gathers, some have referred to you as a Keeper of Lost Children. Would you like to add to this?”
Ethel touched her pillbox hat, then fingered the rosary beads in her pocket as she remembered the raspy voice that she’d heard at the shrine of Lourdes all those many years ago, when she was at her lowest point.
You have much to offer others.
“This award is an amazing honor, and I thank Pope Paul VI for recognizing our work. In the words of my late mother by way of the Book of Isaiah, ‘A little child shall lead them.’ ” Her eyes roamed over each one of her kids, and she smiled.
“Those beautiful children in the German orphanages demanded with their love and affection that something be done to improve their circumstance.
“So I did it.”