Observing miracles

According to the Home's tradition of gift-giving taking place on Christmas Eve, today the gifts were distributed! It was so fun! All the children gathered in the big hall and the manager led a few songs, prayer, and then talked a little bit in Hindi about the difference between a prize and a gift. I was struck by how fatherly his talk was. It was the kind of “training” conversation that was very appropriate for a father to have with his children to help them have the right attitudes in receiving gifts. Only here, there are 300 children to whom he talked to through a microphone, rather than sitting one or two on his knee.

The gifts the children received were a Walmart-sized shopping bag with their name written in marker on the outside. Each held a new toothbrush, toothpaste, small bag of chips, bar of soap, a pair of socks, long underwear pants, a shirt, and about 5 small candies. Several of the girls joyfully wanted to gift me with a few of their candies or part of their bag of chips. Many of the new shirts the girls received were obviously too small for them. Apparently most of the clothes the Home receives are for small children, not for those above age 10 or so. Teenagers need clothes too though. When I asked the girls what they’d do with their new shirts that wouldn’t fit, they said with a pleasant matter-of-fact smile, “we’ll give them to one of the little sisters.” Maybe there was just some mistake and the girls can get exchanges for larger sizes, I really don’t know. The girls didn’t seem to upset about it though.

Do you know what’s miraculous? These kids are. They’re amazing. They don’t cry. (I rarely ever hear or see tears.) They don’t get hurt. (The dispensary is almost always empty.) They don’t get sick. (No allergies.) All of them have 20/20 vision. (Verified by the doctor who checked last year.) They don’t squabble. (No one protested when I let only one girl handle my camera even though I know they all LOVE photo-taking) They’re not selfish. (I can guarantee, if they had two peanuts on their plate, they’d smilingly beg you to take one.) Of course these children are not perfect, they’re sinners just like all of us,… but God’s grace is upon this place in a powerful way. It’s…miraculous.

Last night was carol-singing. Compared to the durability of these children, I felt quite fragile treading through the starlit darkness over rocky paths, narrow stairs, tight alleys, and uneven fields with dozens of singing children. No light was necessary for them. Their small feet easily avoided all the hidden rocks, holes, and crevices, all the while their voices carrying Hindi Christmas melodies, while I fumbled for my cell phone light so I could see where my feet landed. One 7th grader, Ruby, took loving ownership of my hand and carefully made sure I saw any potentially dangerous rocks, holes or uneven stairs. I like to think of myself as fairly capable in the outdoors, but next to these simple, smiling, sandal-footed, children, I felt like a slow clutz.

Outside one home, a few within my group of carolers turned said to me, “Didi, we will go to your house next! Go home!” Go? I asked. “Yes, yes!” Their eyes glistened excitedly. How anticlimactic it would be for them to arrive at my home to carol and me not be there! I shuffled away from the group to go turn on the lights in my home and pretend I have been cozily resting there all evening. A few moments later: “O Come All Ye Faithful…!” The sound was more loud than melodious and came bursting through my front door. I knew they were singing in English for me. “Happy Christmas, Didi!” Over 50 children plastered me against my front door, all wanting to shake my hand and give me the merry holiday wishes. It made me remember the first time I met the children... Only this time, I was not nearly as overwhelmed as I had been on that day. Finally, the older boy leader hushed the children all and got them to stop singing long enough to pray for us and move on to the next home. Despite not knowing most of the songs, and feeling clumsy and fragile in the starlit night, I would not have missed the caroling experience for the world.

This place is a place of miracles-- small miracles with dark skin, sandaled feet, and glistening bright white eyes and smiles.

Merry Christmas!