Orphan Train

by Christina Baker Kline

I’ve come to think that’s what heaven is—a place in the memory of others where our best selves live on.

You know too much, and this knowledge makes you wary. You grow fearful and mistrustful. The expression of emotion does not come naturally, so you learn to fake it. To pretend. To display an empathy you don’t actually feel. And so it is that you learn how to pass, if you’re lucky, to look like everyone else, even though you’re broken inside.

My entire life has felt like chance. Random moments of loss and connection. This is the first one that feels, instead, like fate.