The morning sun spilled soft golden light across the floors of Rosehill Orphanage. The fire in the sitting room crackled low, casting a warm glow over the rocking chair where Miss Hopkins sat, the baby nestled peacefully in her arms. Her small chest rose and fell in steady rhythm, still wrapped snug in the blanket she'd arrived in.
The hush of the morning was broken by the creak of the front door opening.
In came Mrs. Penley, a sprightly woman in her fifties with silver curls tucked into a worn floral bonnet, and Mr. Thistle, tall and thin with spectacles forever sliding down his nose.
"Oh my stars…" Mrs. Penley gasped the moment she laid eyes on the child. "Miss Hopkins, what in heaven's name—?"
Miss Hopkins turned, smiling gently. "She was left on our doorstep last night."
"By who?" Mr. Thistle asked, eyebrows raised. "Did anyone see?"
"No one we could catch. Just a knock… and then she was there. All wrapped up, quiet as you please." She looked down again, brushing her fingers gently over the child's soft cheek. "She was ice cold, but breathing. I've never seen a baby so still and yet so—beautiful."
Mrs. Penley stepped closer, hands clasped over her heart as she peered down.
"Oh… oh, look at her," she whispered. "That little button nose. And those lashes! Poor thing. Abandoned at such an age…"
The baby stirred and gave the faintest little sigh. Mrs. Penley melted instantly. "I could just eat her up! Do we know her name?"
"No. Not a note, not a word. Nothing," Miss Hopkins said softly. "She's a mystery."
"A precious mystery," Mrs. Penley murmured.
"I'll fetch some of the warmer blankets from the linen closet," Mr. Thistle offered, already moving toward the hallway. "She'll need them until the boiler is up properly."
Then suddenly, Mrs. Penley straightened with a start. "Oh, mercy!"
Miss Hopkins looked up, alarmed. "What is it?"
"I completely forgot—I was supposed to wake the children ten minutes ago!" She turned on her heel. "I swear, one look at a baby and I lose all sense of duty!"
Miss Hopkins chuckled softly, and Mr. Thistle shook his head as he disappeared down the hall.
---
Down the corridor, Mrs. Penley opened the dormitory door and called out brightly, "Rise and shine, my darlings! Time to greet the day!"
No answer.
She moved to the next room. "Up, up! Don't make me come in there with cold water!"
Still only groans and rustling.
She tapped her slippered foot, then grinned to herself. Time for a little mischief.
"Well, if you don't want to meet the beautiful baby who arrived last night, I suppose I'll keep her all to myself!"
Instant chaos.
"Baby?!"
"What baby?!"
"Where?!"
Shoes thumped. Blankets flew. Within moments, the once-quiet hallway echoed with the noise of children scrambling to get dressed, tugging on boots, brushing sleep from their eyes.
"Now, now!" Mrs. Penley laughed, waving her arms like a traffic marshal. "Let's not all tumble down the stairs in your
By the time they poured into the sitting room, Miss Hopkins had just finished adjusting the blanket around the baby's tiny feet.
The children crowded around with wide eyes and gasps of wonder.
"She's so small!"
"She looks like a doll!"
"Can I hold her?"
"What's her name?"
"She hasn't got one yet," Miss Hopkins said gently. "But she's ours now."
There was a quiet moment. Then, with childlike simplicity, the orphans accepted this truth as enough. The baby, without family or name, had found a place.
"She's magic," whispered Peter.
"She smiled at me!" insisted Ellie.
"She's asleep," Alice replied flatly.
"Still counts," Ellie huffed.
"Will she sleep with us?" asked one of the younger boys.
"We'll see," Miss Hopkins replied, her heart warmed at how quickly they all opened theirs.
Mrs. Penley stood beside the hearth, her eyes misty. "I've never seen them take to anyone so fast…"
Mr. Thistle returned with a pile of blankets and added softly, "Perhaps… she's what we've all been waiting for."
And in that golden morning light, with the fire glowing and laughter in the air, no one spoke of mystery or danger. Just warmth.
And hope.