"Where is your Mother, young man", he asked as he looked around the now empty room. The boy pointed to a chair in the far corner of the room and began to cry. "Mama, Mama", he sobbed. The Officer came from behind the counter and approached the woman who appeared to be sleeping. He placed his hand on her shoulder, and spoke softly to her, "Madam, it is your turn".
"Mama, wake up", cried the boy as he attempted to climb in her lap. As he did so, the woman slumped forward and fell to the floor with her sobbing child holding her in his arms.
In the minutes and hours that followed, the Officer sent for the immigration/morgue authorities, searched the woman's bag for identification papers and comforted the boy, who between sobs, had revealed his name as being Henry. The search for the woman's identification yielded only the papers the boy had given the Officer, which proved that his name was indeed Henry, but the last name was unreadable.
With no other alternatives left for identifying the child and finding his next of kin, an Immigration Missionary Representative was notified. The Missionary organization provided assistance to those immigrants who needed temporary shelter and protection especially, to women and children.
The Naturalization Officer knew that young Henry would be in good hands and receive the care and attention he would need as an Immigrant Orphan. He gave the Missionary Representative Henry's mother's oversized bag with the old violin, and the citizenship papers, such as they were, in hopes that they would contain a clue to Henry's identity.
Little did he know that he held the key to Henry's identity the whole time.
And never would he have guessed the part he would play in Henry's future fame and fortune.
To be continued with Letter P's fiction from forgotten fotos
The Child Prodigy