I write to you from the site of the new extension of the Widows’ and Orphans’ Home, the construction whereof is nearing completion. My heart is warmed to think of all the good that shall be done within these walls.
Please understand that it is out of concern for our unfortunate charges, and not out of any lack of faith in your administrative abilities, that I ask: How do things fare at the London location? Are the orphans receiving motherly care and scholarly enrichment? Are the widows learning valuable life skills such as will secure their independence? What have you been feeding them for breakfast?
With all the faith and affection that suits our professional relationship I remain
I am in receipt of a letter from @Prunetree which I believe was intended for you; I attach it here with my apologies.
Sincerely,
Sarah
Dear Sir Ebenezer,
Rest assured all is well at our London Home. The residents have settled in more quickly than we could have imagined, and the bustle of their coming and going gives life to the previously empty house. As you requested, widows and orphans alike have busied themselves with various household tasks and have proven themselves equal to the spirit of co-operation in which the Home was founded. We are contending with a shortage of clothing, but the widows are resourceful with what we have available. Perhaps we will receive some much-needed donations soon.
Lest you imagine that the Home conducts itself so well as to obviate my involvement, however, I have attached a menu of breakfast items which I myself make sure to prepare before they wake, it being important that they have sufficient energy for the day’s activities.
Some of the orphans have suggested that they might like to meet you, and we hope you will be able to visit us in London one day soon.
Having not yet heard from you since my previous letter, I worry you may not have received it due to some oversight of the postal service. However, I was moved to write again to relay the story of the Home’s first outing — which was not without its mishaps, but even so could be called a success. The children are already clamouring for another excursion, and if you have any suggestions I shall take them into account.
It is my hope that the attached report on yesterday’s museum visit will prove to you that our venture is bearing fruit already, and I am certain the new extension will flourish equally once construction is complete.
I am overjoyed to learn that you are well, and that the Home is doing well, and that our beloved orphans and widows are doing well as well. Oh, happy, happy! Happy, happy, happy, happy, happy, happy!
These attachments to your letters are very interesting—I might go so far as to call them strange. I believe I understand them quite completely; but I should not be surprised if the Home’s staff (or, Heaven forbid, the BOARD OF TRUSTEES) found your reports a trifle difficult to sort out. I hope you will make yourself available to help along any readers who experience such difficulty.
I, meantime, will busy myself in procuring the donations you have so artfully hinted at. You may expect to receive them within the week if all goes well. Until then I remain
We have received your parcel of donated clothing and the residents are already putting their new garments to good use. Certain of the widows are particularly charmed by their sturdiness, and the orphans have vowed to keep them from unseemly stains and tears. However long they manage to do so, one cannot help but admire their commitment.
I must, however, inform you that some number of the items unfortunately became damaged after their delivery. Being occupied with this and that, I regret that I delayed finding the donations a proper storage-space; and in a matter of hours I returned to find the parcel ravaged by who knows what. The saving grace of this development is in seeing the aforementioned widows’ dedication to repairing and repurposing the affected apparel.
Enclosed is an accounting of our losses, with gratitude for your generosity and understanding. If I can help you (or the board of trustees) in any other way, you need only say the word.
I have been reading the most calamitous rumours! This newspaper, right here on my desk, asserts that “a certain Mrs P,” whilst leading the wards of “a certain Widows’ and Orphans’ Home” on a tour round “the Great Wen” (London), got herself and her charges hopelessly lost, such that “if gratuitous Fate had not intervened,” the whole lot of them might have disappeared until “their dusty Bones were uncovered by the Archæologists of some future Age”!
I received your letter to-day and thought to write you at once to assuage any doubts about my leadership. It is unfortunate that such rumours would be published, but you know how unreliable the world’s journalists have become lately. I hope you will agree we must not let this misunderstanding deter us from our mission.
I read a similar story in the local papers, and the truth of the matter is very different. Yes, we did lose our bearings while visiting Trafalgar Square, but at no point were we hopeless; if we had been, we had only to ask a passer-by for assistance. In fact I seized the opportunity to educate the children in navigation, as I had of course thought it prudent to bring a map with us. I have attached it herein with annotations from the day as proof of my account.
Our educational programmes are under way, and although some variation is to be expected, on the whole the efforts of our staff are being handsomely rewarded. With the widows and orphans engaged in their respective studies during the morning hours, I found myself idle for the first time since the Home opened its doors. Remembering our talk of one day planting a garden on the grounds, I found the perfect spot, then set about laying out the borders and calculating the area required for several vegetable crops.
As you have often observed, my powers of spatial reasoning do not always meet the task, and indeed some plots remain empty after all my planning. If you would like to share any suggestions on how to amend the situation, I would be much gratified. An illustration of the garden’s current state is attached for your convenience.
I have drafted a list of rules for the Home, to steer our charges’ moral development and forestall the sad day when disciplinary measures must be taken. So pleased was I with my own work that I immediately had these regulations calligraphied and framed, and I will display them prominently in the new Extension as soon as I find an appropriate spot.
A copy is attached, for you to calligraphy or frame as you see fit, before displaying them in the London Home.
Your employer,
Sir Ebenezer Scrooge, Bt
P.S. I received your letter moments after finishing this one. Everything with the vegetable garden looks fine, good job good job good job.
I appreciate your eagerness to provide structure for our residents, but I admit I find your list of rules quite inscrutable. I have given this idea some thought myself, and I believe a certain change in approach is required. I have decided to meet with you in person at the new extension site so we can combine our efforts and improve upon these guidelines.
As I will be leaving at once, this will be my final letter, and the next you hear from me will be face to face. Perhaps I will finally have occasion to meet your daughter, Ebenezabeth.