January 1989
Dear Saints and Aints.
Greetings in Jesus' name from Nagpur.
Before me lies the daunting task of replying to all the Christmas cards and letters and acknowledge gifts and kindnesses … Even the computer balks at the enormity of the undertaking. Hence, in order to get the job done, I once again resort to a newsletter...
A morning in the life of a "saint".
When morning gilds the skies,
My heart awakening cries,
"Oh no! Another day!"
Penetrating some vague dream is the clanging of the rising bell evoking not much initial response apart from a groan followed - by nothing ... However, the luxury of doing nothing lasts not long and I heave my aching bones in a semi-upright position and peer through the window to see if we beat the dawn. We did. So at least the darkness outside tells me. Some rooster, making a racket to raise his wives to make him breakfast, the only reasonable assumption for such an early morning call, tells me that it was not by much. My bones and muscles creak as I sit upright and, as on other mornings like this, I promise myself to see a doctor because whatever causes such discomfort must be either awful big or there must be an awful lot of small ones like it for the pain seems all over ...
While the steps of the righteous are ordered by the Lord, mine, at this early hour, are ordered by on overwhelming desire for a cup of coffee of the kind - that kept me awake half of the night before ... Our two cats, familiar with my habits, are outside waiting for the dual creaking - of bed and bones, and, upon hearing it, start their duet ... In no mood to give in to their strident demands for milk, I give them the "water treatment" after which they, somewhat in disarray, "retire" ...
By the time the second bell calls saintlets and aintlets for the morning devotion, I am sitting in my living room hugging my cup of coffee dimly wondering whether I am in the proper mood and/or frame of mind to address God in prayer. I decided I am. Figured it would be a sad day when I needed to be in a particular mood to address my Father ...
When the tumult, that always accompanies the morning exercise, and the cup of steaming hot tea that follows, had somewhat subsided, the bell "tolls" again calling those who have afternoon school - for toil. It was time I made my appearance. Some kids are still, like I before, hugging their cup of tea, while others are getting ready to go to school and the "remnant" forms a series of lines in varying degrees of order to be marched off to work, the leveling of the school grounds. During the winter months the march to the "battlefield" is a reluctant one with the "combatants” ensconced in their blankets move like so many mummies.
The red, bleary-eyed sun, peeking over the horizon looks as if it too had a bad night. And though, bringing some sort of light, offers no warms no comfort. But once about 40 odd feet above the horizon it brightens up considerably and I always feel it is because it never saw a handsomer bunch of people at work than us ... Which somewhat cheers us up.
Whatever the drawbacks of an early rising might be there is something glorious about the early morning. As I stand there overlooking an awakening world my heart rises to a joyful prayer, a deep-felt thank you for such thing as the warming sun, patches of green in the field, the singing of a bird, the laughter of my kids as they slowly shed their blankets and their gloominess.
I offer a prayer of thanx for simply being alive and - alive with the knowledge that God loves me and that, whatever might happen, I am His.
The breakfast bell, ringing about 8 am, is, as always, greeted with joy from my labour-weary kids. The simple fare of either spicy serials, or chickpeas or such thing is met with enthusiasm - most of the time. Though joining the kids, more often than not I skip breakfast or have a chapatti with sugar or, just another cup of coffee. Should I indulge in their food there is a real danger of either burning up or blowing up or - both.
The rest of the morning, till noon is filled up with writing letters, reports, applications for this or that and some for money, talking to guests and kids and play the occasional computer game.
As to the rest of our lives: The other evening, while coming out of the shower, I heard a thud. I looked and there was a viper on the floor. It had fallen from the ceiling - 4 feet from me. The boys, whom I hastily “summoned”, took care of it. Accepting the possibility of being called a coward - I slept with the light on that night ... One day Rupchand put the tractor on its side while dragging huge rocks out of a pit we are digging. A few days ago a 50' long wall from the septic tank we are in the process of building, collapsed. A kid who stood on top of it escaped unharmed. One of the boys ran my scooter into a goat - to the detriment of both ... I also got a new "granddaughter". The rest is fine ...
The Mawchi New Testament is being bound.
The school, being ready, is used for dormitory till “Further Notice".
The Minister for Transport waived a 12.000 Rupees fine for the vehicle. He is a Mawchi and I was able to talk to him in his mother tongue ...
Christmas day four goats died and were "buried" in the tummy of some 270 plus people. What a "funeral" we had.
A Story: A young man was walking along the beach early in the morning throwing starfish back into the water. Another man watching him asked him what he was doing. He said, "I am throwing these starfish into the ocean because they will die when the sun comes up." The man laughed, "This beach goes on for miles, what difference do a few make?" The young man looked at a starfish and while throwing it back into the water said, "It makes a difference to this one."
What I want to say is: "Thank You!" Your help DOES make a difference; it makes a difference to US and for this we are exceedingly grateful.
With love from us all
Saint and Saintlets |
