3rd-Grade Class Has Prayers Answered

They were strangers to each other, the second-graders and this little boy Brandon, the one who could have been their baby brother, or their cousin, or maybe even them a few years back.

All they knew was that Brandon Hall, 4 years old, the grandson of a friend of their teacher’s friend, was gone. Kidnaped.

Maybe he was hurt; maybe he was dead. By the end of the school year, he’d been missing eight months.

Police searched, private investigators too. Jane Hall and missing-children’s organizations printed up flyers with her son’s picture. Have you seen this child? Jane held garage sales at her home in Costa Mesa to help with all the bills. She grieved. Brandon is her only child.

So the second-graders at St. Columban School, in Garden Grove, prayed.

They did this all year, in class, at home and whenever Brandon would cross their mind. They asked God to look out for Brandon and for his mother too. They asked God to bring this little boy home.

“We send you our love and our prayers,” the children--Veronica S., Andy G., Kristen P. and on and on, all 37 of them--wrote on a card that they made for Jane Hall.

“We have been saying lots of prayers,” another letter said. “We are going to pray more and more for him until he’s found. We are excited about Brandon coming to see us when he’s found. So we’re keeping him in our hearts. God bless you and keep you strong.

“God will help you.”

The second-graders are third-graders now, 9 and 10 years old. Brandon turned 5.

He has been found. He is alive and well after nine months away from home.

“Would you say that your prayers have been answered?” second-grade teacher Josephine Fleming asked her former students the other day.

“Yes!” they shout, gasping, clapping, smiling open-mouthed grins, amazed.

Brandon Hall and his mother are before them now. His grandmother, Beverly Christian, is standing off to the side, snapping pictures as fast as she can.

“It’s neat to know that there are people out there who really care about people,” this grandmother tells the class, trying not to cry.

A few moments before, the children weren’t sure what surprise awaited them on this otherwise routine day. First Mrs. Fleming asking if they remembered the little boy that they had prayed for last year. Of course they did! What kind of a silly question is that?

So that was the clue. The children waited, eyes wide, mouths open, little squeaks here and there. It had to be something good.

Then the children waited some more.

Brandon had let go of his mother’s hand and run back down the hall. All the excitement was a bit much.

In a few moments, though, his mother had tracked Brandon down. He grins now, bashful in front of the class. Then it seems to sink in: These big kids are clapping for me!

The children come up, one by one, to say hello, welcome him back and to shake his hand. Only sometimes Brandon sits on his hand if the person wanting to hold it is a girl .

Matthew Fowler, wearing the uniform of a Cub Scout, is the first one up. Months ago, Matthew sent a teddy bear, a toothbrush and toothpaste to Brandon’s mother, so confident was he that her son would be found.

One boy gives Brandon two packages of baseball cards. It was what he had available for this impromptu affair.

Then the questions begin. Shana wants to know who found him. Jane Hall explains that the Orange County district attorney’s office, with help from a private investigator, had tracked Brandon to Crescent City, near the Oregon border. She was reunited with her son July 4. He was taken Oct. 12.

“Was he lost or kidnaped?” Matthew asks.

“He was kidnaped,” Jane says. “He was taken by his dad.”

At this, the children gasp. “Why did his dad take him?” one boy asks.

“Boy, I don’t know,” this mother says. She says she hasn’t spoken to her husband for a year.

(Barry Hall has been charged with felony child stealing. He has married again, although he and Jane haven’t yet been divorced. He told Brandon, who is now in therapy, that his mother was dead.)

“Mean old dad,” Brandon adds.

“Was he hurt?” one girl asks.

“No, he wasn’t hurt,” Jane tells the class. “He was dirty and his hair was real long.”

“ Real long!” Brandon says. “It was almost down to here !” With this, Brandon swipes at his shoulders and then makes a face.

Jane Hall tells the children that it isn’t enough to know their phone numbers. They must know their area code too. Brandon now knows his.

“We were lucky, weren’t we?” Mrs. Fleming tells the class. “Not everybody gets their prayers answered. What would be a nice thing to do?”

Many little arms shoot up. “Thank God,” the voices chime.

And then they do, folding their hands and bowing their heads at their desks.

Two boys in the class, cued by the principal, Sister Brid O’Shea, approach Jane Hall now bearing a long stemmed rose framed in baby’s breath. There is another one for grandmother and even one for me too.

Jane Hall finally cries, wiping at her eyes with the heel of her hand.

Teresa White, the students’ third-grade teacher, says not to worry. “We’re not going to stop praying now!”

Then the girls and boys of St. Columban School clap some more.

“Wow!” is the last word that I hear.