As you all are busy preparing for Christmas, I have been reflecting on the many gifts I have received during our time in India. We are in one of the very poorest areas in the world, very remote, with limited resources. We have learned so very much from these people, who are kindhearted, warm and among the most hospitable I have ever encountered.
Hospitality doesn’t mean pulling out the finest china and serving the best food and drink. It doesn’t include having to clean the house, arrange the flowers and spending hours in planning an event for those we love and care about.
In Annupshar, being hospitable means being thrilled that the Americans are visiting in your village. They come to your tiny one room home, with cow dung patties drying out front, while the naked babies toddle about, and small children in torn and dirty clothes roam unsupervised through the streets. The water buffalo, pigs, goats, dogs and cows are tied to trees, or pass by on the dirt road. Hospitality means going to the well to draw enough water to boil for chai, cooked on a fire on the floor of your 5 x 10’ house, built with cow dung. It means any of the villagers who happen to see you passing by, join the others to follow these strange looking people, welcoming us proudly to their village. We smile, say hello or nameste, and we become “friends”. Communication is limited, because until recently Hindi or Urdu have been the only language spoken here since the beginning of time. Words are spoken in the smile, a touch, or with the strange words we each speak that neither understands. It may be in asking to take a photo, then showing it to them.
Our hostess passes small cups of chai, invites us to sit on the only piece of furniture in the house, her parents rope bed. The others sleep on the floor. Preeti pulls out a package of cookies from under the bed that cost 10 rupees(23 cents). We know these are special cookies, saved for guests. We take photos, tell her how beautiful her mantle is(adorned with newspaper, cut with a scalloped edge for decoration). Night begins to fall so we must be on our way back to the school. We are so happy to have come for this visit and to have shared the hospitality of a people whose lives are unlike our own in every way.
As we leave, I pray that God will shelter them, keep them safe and healthy. I also pray every morning as the 600 girls pray their prayers in Hindi at the opening of school, and sing “We Shall Overcome” I ask Him to protect them from all the evils that beset a society where the abuse of women comes in every form known to mankind. As I scan the room where the girls gather, I can only imagine some of the unimaginable experiences many have gone through in their precious, young lives. I pray for girls born of rape, and those who are being raped and abused.
I reflect on all of the gifts that God has given to us, as Americans. They take on new meaning now that we are here:
-For not having to cut holes in my children’s shoes because their feet have grown and we cannot buy a new pair. Most children here, if they have a pair of socks, have holes in their socks big enough to put their foot through. My children had so many socks we would simply discard because they weren’t the right color, a favorite, or didn’t feel right. How these children would love to have had our throwaways.
-That my children didn’t die from typhoid, caused by unclean water, and no medical care;
-That I could help heal a young girl’s infected chin, infected since our arrival, by providing her with peroxide and Neosporin, and showing her how to keep the wound clean . She and I are now great friends, as she seeks me out every day to show me how her chin has healed. The scar will remain, as it was badly infected.
-that my children were not born undersized, or with developmental delays, because I lacked iodine during pregnancy. And, that I never had to beg for food to feed my crying, hungry babies.
-that in America we don’t have to sell our daughters into prostitution, out of desperation. The price? 1000 rupees($20US)
-that we don’t marry our daughters off to an older man, when they are 15, so they are no longer a financial burden. Parents are paid money for their daughters. How much are they worth? Not much, for many in this society. Girls are aborted and murdered here, simply because they are girls. The girls in this school are the lucky ones, for many reasons.
-for being able to bathe our children, in warm bathtubs, with soap, rather than at the community water pump, with cold water when the temperature is 50 degrees(it’s winter here now);
-that we can afford to eat rice. It’s grown plentifully around the village, but the villagers cannot afford to buy it. It is more than they can afford with an average family income of just a few rupees a day. Their diet consists of roti(twheat and water) bread and what vegetables they grow. Girls at our school are so fortunate-they receive 2 meals and a snack/day.
-that we have toilets, affording us the privledge of going to the bathroom in private, rather than on the streets;
-the our elderly, frail and in poor health, don’t need to sit, so vulnerable, on the streets begging from the poorest of poor, hoping to be given something to fill their hungry stomachs.
-that our river, the Brandywine, unlike the Ganges that flows through the village, is relatively clean and safe. Though the Ganges is the most holy river, it is a dumping ground for trash, amongst the cremated remains of the Hindi people;
-that our children don’t have to sift, barefooted, through garbage piles, hoping to bring something home to the family;
-for supporting our children through their schooling, knowing that education is the key to a better tomorrow. It is a major struggle here convincing parents that sending their girls to school, and not keeping them home to work and care for the other children, is in their best interest.
-that my son knows that women should be treated with love and respect, as equals, rather than as a piece of property, with no voice.
-that we will help celebrate Christmas here with the students and staff. I have shared with them that Christmas is the birthday of our God, Jesus Christ, and we have a big birthday party for him. Since there are no Christians in this village, having a Christmas celebration, is a big deal. We’ll be working hard for the next 3 weeks to make this a most special celebration. It will be simple, with ornaments(trees, stars, snowmen and snowflakes) made by the kids. We will give each child a new pair of socks and some candies.
I am most grateful that God has been with me every step of this journey. He is the reason for this season, and this year, being in India, away from my family and Christian community, I will reflect on the simplicity and reason for the season, without getting caught up in the mall traffic and the search for the “right” gift, for us who already have so much and really don't need another thing to live our lives quite comfortably. I will remember all that I have, all that I have been given, and all that is yet to come.
May the love and peace of the season be with you. With love, Mary
Hospitality doesn’t mean pulling out the finest china and serving the best food and drink. It doesn’t include having to clean the house, arrange the flowers and spending hours in planning an event for those we love and care about.
In Annupshar, being hospitable means being thrilled that the Americans are visiting in your village. They come to your tiny one room home, with cow dung patties drying out front, while the naked babies toddle about, and small children in torn and dirty clothes roam unsupervised through the streets. The water buffalo, pigs, goats, dogs and cows are tied to trees, or pass by on the dirt road. Hospitality means going to the well to draw enough water to boil for chai, cooked on a fire on the floor of your 5 x 10’ house, built with cow dung. It means any of the villagers who happen to see you passing by, join the others to follow these strange looking people, welcoming us proudly to their village. We smile, say hello or nameste, and we become “friends”. Communication is limited, because until recently Hindi or Urdu have been the only language spoken here since the beginning of time. Words are spoken in the smile, a touch, or with the strange words we each speak that neither understands. It may be in asking to take a photo, then showing it to them.
Our hostess passes small cups of chai, invites us to sit on the only piece of furniture in the house, her parents rope bed. The others sleep on the floor. Preeti pulls out a package of cookies from under the bed that cost 10 rupees(23 cents). We know these are special cookies, saved for guests. We take photos, tell her how beautiful her mantle is(adorned with newspaper, cut with a scalloped edge for decoration). Night begins to fall so we must be on our way back to the school. We are so happy to have come for this visit and to have shared the hospitality of a people whose lives are unlike our own in every way.
As we leave, I pray that God will shelter them, keep them safe and healthy. I also pray every morning as the 600 girls pray their prayers in Hindi at the opening of school, and sing “We Shall Overcome” I ask Him to protect them from all the evils that beset a society where the abuse of women comes in every form known to mankind. As I scan the room where the girls gather, I can only imagine some of the unimaginable experiences many have gone through in their precious, young lives. I pray for girls born of rape, and those who are being raped and abused.
I reflect on all of the gifts that God has given to us, as Americans. They take on new meaning now that we are here:
-For not having to cut holes in my children’s shoes because their feet have grown and we cannot buy a new pair. Most children here, if they have a pair of socks, have holes in their socks big enough to put their foot through. My children had so many socks we would simply discard because they weren’t the right color, a favorite, or didn’t feel right. How these children would love to have had our throwaways.
-That my children didn’t die from typhoid, caused by unclean water, and no medical care;
-That I could help heal a young girl’s infected chin, infected since our arrival, by providing her with peroxide and Neosporin, and showing her how to keep the wound clean . She and I are now great friends, as she seeks me out every day to show me how her chin has healed. The scar will remain, as it was badly infected.
-that my children were not born undersized, or with developmental delays, because I lacked iodine during pregnancy. And, that I never had to beg for food to feed my crying, hungry babies.
-that in America we don’t have to sell our daughters into prostitution, out of desperation. The price? 1000 rupees($20US)
-that we don’t marry our daughters off to an older man, when they are 15, so they are no longer a financial burden. Parents are paid money for their daughters. How much are they worth? Not much, for many in this society. Girls are aborted and murdered here, simply because they are girls. The girls in this school are the lucky ones, for many reasons.
-for being able to bathe our children, in warm bathtubs, with soap, rather than at the community water pump, with cold water when the temperature is 50 degrees(it’s winter here now);
-that we can afford to eat rice. It’s grown plentifully around the village, but the villagers cannot afford to buy it. It is more than they can afford with an average family income of just a few rupees a day. Their diet consists of roti(twheat and water) bread and what vegetables they grow. Girls at our school are so fortunate-they receive 2 meals and a snack/day.
-that we have toilets, affording us the privledge of going to the bathroom in private, rather than on the streets;
-the our elderly, frail and in poor health, don’t need to sit, so vulnerable, on the streets begging from the poorest of poor, hoping to be given something to fill their hungry stomachs.
-that our river, the Brandywine, unlike the Ganges that flows through the village, is relatively clean and safe. Though the Ganges is the most holy river, it is a dumping ground for trash, amongst the cremated remains of the Hindi people;
-that our children don’t have to sift, barefooted, through garbage piles, hoping to bring something home to the family;
-for supporting our children through their schooling, knowing that education is the key to a better tomorrow. It is a major struggle here convincing parents that sending their girls to school, and not keeping them home to work and care for the other children, is in their best interest.
-that my son knows that women should be treated with love and respect, as equals, rather than as a piece of property, with no voice.
-that we will help celebrate Christmas here with the students and staff. I have shared with them that Christmas is the birthday of our God, Jesus Christ, and we have a big birthday party for him. Since there are no Christians in this village, having a Christmas celebration, is a big deal. We’ll be working hard for the next 3 weeks to make this a most special celebration. It will be simple, with ornaments(trees, stars, snowmen and snowflakes) made by the kids. We will give each child a new pair of socks and some candies.
I am most grateful that God has been with me every step of this journey. He is the reason for this season, and this year, being in India, away from my family and Christian community, I will reflect on the simplicity and reason for the season, without getting caught up in the mall traffic and the search for the “right” gift, for us who already have so much and really don't need another thing to live our lives quite comfortably. I will remember all that I have, all that I have been given, and all that is yet to come.
May the love and peace of the season be with you. With love, Mary
