The Orphan

When Lil’ Kris,  the orphan,
came to our house to stay
Ma said we shouldn’t call her “orphan”,
but I said it anyway.

I asked Ma, “ What is an orphan?”
(cuz she looks like one of us)
Ma sez, “An orphans’ a special child
who deserves a lot of love.”

Well, all I know is Kris, the orphan,
hits as hard as Bill, my brother,
but when I goes to hit her back
Ma hollers, “Stop!” Then sez I oughta love her.

Yuck!  I don’t care if she is an orphan
or if she hits me with a stick,
she’s still a girl n’ I won’t lover her.
The idea just makes me sick.

T’other day when we wuz wrasslin’
and she had me pinned agin’ the wall,
I said we better stop the ruckus
or  I’d be in trouble with my Ma.
                                                                                          
I said, “My Ma don’t like me fightin’!”
as the orphan gave my arm a twist,
but when I sad that my Ma would whack me
her eyes got all covered in a mist.

She ran away, but I found her hidin’
in the orchard up in a tree.
She was cryin’ hard when I heard her say,
“I wish my  Ma was here to whack on me.”

That’s when I finally unnerstood
who Kris, the orphan, might really be
as we sat out in the orchard cryin”,
me huggin’ her an her a’huggin’ me.

Now, I don’t call her Kris, the orphan,
and once she called me ‘brother’.
Then just last night as we wuz tuckin’ in
we both asked God to bless her Mother.