May 1989

Dear Saints and Aints...

Greetings in Jesus' name from Nagpur...

The moon, but a day or two ago, full and golden colored, hanging over the city and transforming the nightscape into a giant picture postcard, is hiding behind clouds. The view was almost unreal, giving sky and earth and the place where both met, a fairy tale appearance. The playground took on vast dimension in the uncertain light and the trees, surrounding it, stood dark and watchful. Their tops moving back and forth as if discussing the day's events or next day's programme. The cattle tied to them at one end of the field were but dim shadows within shadows. And, but for the occasional bellow, directed at who knows what or whom or, for that matter for what reason, they almost seemed lifeless - part of the enchanted scenery ... In the distance, the still awake city pierces the night with a multitude of dots of light.

Leaning against a tree I have the illusion of a soft "Ave Maria" Hail Mary full of grace ... floating towards me on the gentle breeze. Reflecting on the illusion I wonder if Mary, like I now and then, had not often the desire to retreat from the unpleasant reality that followed those magnificent words, to this initial moment of calling, "Ave ...! Greetings from God ..."

The last few nights while tossing and turning and in vain chasing sleep and rest but catching nothing but "half-starved nightmares" made me long for the comfortable prayer room where I knelt, seemingly so long ago, asking to be permitted to serve and - heard the "Go!"

The overcast sky not only prevents the moon from lighting the world but also the heat from escaping. The absence of a breeze compounds the unmitigated misery. Ours are but prayers for a cool breeze and sleep. Unlike the kids, about 20, who will stay until the middle of May, I was hidden away from the vicious mosquitoes under a mosquito net. They faced their fury. Though protected from the bugs, I faced, if possible, a more stifling heat. After such a night, one feels worn out and, were the bed not so uncomfortable - soaking wet - one would hate to get up. But the morning sun, like a good mother hen her brood, rouses us. Then we, facing the unwelcome prospect of another hot day, pray the workers' and peasants' prayer:

"Lord! we pray! Let it be evening.
If possible - before breakfast."

The days, though the temps are but a paltry 108-109° Fahrenheit, are no better. It seems hot. The cats flop in the shady places around my "hideout" lethargic to a degree that flies can land on their noses without being instantly "rebuked". The kitten, lone survivor of two, with a coat of colors that makes one suspect she was involved in a "paint-throwing-contest" and - lost, opens, at my passing, one bleary eye and then, without a single "meow" shuts it and goes, in its dream at least, to a cooler place ... I am afraid, their coats though preventing a sunburn, are not a great help in this heat. The dogs, whenever they make their appearance, look a mess for, unlike the cats who carefully avoid mud and water, they, like little boys, relish it - except, of course, at bathing time ... The birds, exceptions admitted, restrict their singing to morn and eventide probably due to non-availability of throat lozenges ... But heat or no heat, life goes on ...

The few kids that gather after the morning tea look at me with a remarkable absence of enthusiasm. But, having been promised a substantial gift when they go home, work starts without a murmur. And soon they are their usual happy selves. We are determined to get the foundation for the dining hall and - though stretching our faith a bit - the foundation for the dorm, built. We have some materials left over from the school building which we want to use. Though we need to buy some more.

This year we are expecting a lot of visitors especially from head office and, as we are some of those who live by "hint" and not by "faith" - half completed building, without money for its completion, should prove effective ...

We just spent Rs.30,000.00=$2400.00 to take the kids to their respective homes. Thanx to the efforts of Rev. Ken Bombay in Montreal we received $25,000 Can. to purchase a new 34 seater bus. No running shoes after all ... By the time this letter reaches you, we should be in possession of the bus. Our immense gratitude to all the young people of the Pentecostal Assemblies of Canada who made this possible. Now we will be able to transport the kids in our own bus and that too to a lot of savings.

All said and done, I am happy and, lethargy permitting, even joyful to the degree of dancing a jig - at times ... Also, I haven't forgotten to laugh. The other day I read that "Socrates died on an overdose of “wedlock” and "Penelope was the last hardship Ulysses endured on his journey". All "grist to the mill" of a hardened bachelor ...

But not only do I laugh at jokes but also out of sheer joy because I belong to God. Consequently, if I would have nothing to laugh about - who would?

However, I will not insult your intelligence by telling you it is all fun and games nor that my kids are beyond giving me trouble, nor that my faith is strong enough not to indulge in pushing panic buttons, when money becomes scarce and you see nothing but the "Red Sea" before you and the "Egyptians" behind you ... nor that I feel like laughing when some systems in my body feel "funny", nor that I do not feel loneliness nor share the frustrations that any normal, healthy human being is bound to experience time and time again. All these things, and more are my portion. But with those things I have the unshakable believe that God is with me and for me and working through me.

This place is built on that believe. Though only May, from the present vantage point we will have well over 300 people here on the farm and among those at least one blind boy and one more crippled boy who can only move on crutches.

In the scheme of things, considering the mass of kids that still need a home and help, 300-350 is insignificant. Furthermore, considering the massive resources of God, it is even less than insignificant ... Lastly, considering my many and gracious friends to whom again and again I "stretch out my begging bowl" and retrieve it filled it with many good, kind and lovely gifts - for which we are exceedingly grateful - how can I possibly go wrong in taking more kids?

Lots of love -- Saint Francis and Saintlets