Februry 1991

Dear Saints and Ain'ts.

Peace be multiplied unto thee ...

Three in the morning! Outside. Admiring the night-sky. Brought there partly by old age, too much coffee before going to bed and cold feet. It is awfully still. And in that stillness the sighing of the wind seems a prayer ... the rustling of leaves a praise and the shriek of a startled bird - a supplication. All around me ... silently ... Practically invisible, the dew descends. One of God's millions of unnoticed blessings. Many of the flowers have "closed shop" for the night. Some are "open for business" in case some crazy bee should decide to have a "night out". Or, like me, they just don't want to miss the beautiful night sky ... The star-studded sky suddenly spawns a "falling star"... without thinking I make a wish, only afterwards to feel foolish to believe that a piece of rock, burning up in the upper reaches of the atmosphere would have any power to grant it. I allow myself a grin at my own expense...

In the uncertain light of the stars, the familiar things around me, assume strange shapes and forms and I cannot shed the feeling of enchantment ... the sense of being in a different world ... a friendly different world. I am a little boy again - a little boy like the many that I share this place with - I like it! It is all so beautiful and I feel at peace with myself and with God. While the former comes and goes - the latter, though not always felt, is always with me ... I am overwhelmed by a sense of joy. I am God's!

A little blossom, having lost its hold on the shrub, slowly floats to the ground at my feet. It looks still so beautiful, so very much alive yet - it is very dead. My mood changes. Unbidden come to mind the words of a poet of yester-years describing the fate of those who, unlike the tax collector of old, never bowed their head in a humble –
“Mea culpa, mea culpa, mea maxima culpa”.

"And the same God who so oft said to my soul, "Live!"
Why wilt thou die? Will now neither let me live nor die
but live an everlasting death."

I suddenly realize how cold it is. Wrapping my blanket closer to me I make my way inside, slip back in bed and, looking vacantly at the roof tiles above my head, wait for morning... The jarring sound of the rising bell wakes me. I had fallen asleep afterall. The hustle and bustle of a new day pushes back the enchantment of the night. I am back in the "real world" where trees are trees and not some creatures from fairyland. And 500 kids - well, are 500 kids ...

Though still semi-dark, I can see them marching to the bathroom which might as well have been a guillotine - which means more or less the same to them ... When I meet some of them later they still smell as if water might have been the last thing on their mind but - certainly not on their bodies. I let it pass for, afterall - it is cold ...

The day progresses with the usual minor problems that mark any home with so many people in one place. "Bhaisahib, so-and-so pushed me". "Bhaisahib, I can not go to school because my school uniform is not dry." "Bhaisahib ... " True, I have staff to deal with all these things, but the kids prefer to come to me because - I am easier to "negotiate" with ...

A more serious problem cropped up when a priest from the local seminary brought one of our boys who, with 15 others, had been raiding the seminary's farm ... While the boy in me was not upset about this (I can still hear the dog yapping at my heels while I ran across the field and - it was neither our dog nor our field ... ) the "man" had to be for, the idea of 500 kids raiding the neighbor's field certainly did not appeal to me and, to judge from my neighbor's face, nor to him either ... Both of us were afraid - he more so than I, were this to continue his field would equal in appearance the earth in its "pre-creation" state ... So we came down hard on the culprits and fervently pray that the rest learn their lesson from that.

Basically most of my life is routine, humdrum which, however, does not make it less happy or less satisfying.

Just before Christmas I went to the hospital with a back ache that had started almost a month back. The ever increasing pain in my back and left leg, made work, if not impossible, rather difficult. They admitted me then and there and I spent Christmas in the hospital. I came out the day before New Year's Eve and went back three days later because I didn't have enough sense to lie flat for another week. The night before I went in the second time I was crying in agony and had 20 odd big boys massaging my left leg, giving me water to drink and holding my hands. All this while many of them had tears in their eyes. Humdrum? My foot! It was a scene reminiscent of the "Death of Socrates". Now, though still wearing a bracing belt, I feel better.

This apart things are fine. We did not manage to build anything this year though, as we have been struggling with an excessively high food bill - still to be paid ... On the other hand, we did get blankets for the kids, bought 7 or 8 bikes and 250 small towels; the kids did have a nice Christmas and we do manage to feed them and pay hospital bills and school fees and buy the odd school uniform.

Evening again!

When you've been talking to somebody all day there is precious little left to say at bed time. And so, in the evening, I sit on my bed, utter a couple of sentences prayer, sometimes accompanied by the odd tear to punctuate the depth of my sorrow for the ass I made of myself during the day - and go to sleep ... satisfied and content.

In closing, lest you think me ungrateful: Thanx! many, many thanx for all your gifts, prayers and missives.

In His Great Love

St. Francis and all the Saintlets.