May 1991

Dear Saints and Aints.

Greetings from a sun-scorched Nagpur. The last little, rag-regaled ragamuffins have left for their holidays. And with their leaving, summer has returned and – time for rest...

A piece of mortar falling from the ever widening crack in the wall of my bed room startles me into wakefulness. A bleary-eyed look at the clock tells me it is 1.30 PM, but a mere 1/2 hour into my siesta.

Draped in the barest minimum modesty, in an even all male society, demands, I absentmindedly slap, unseeingly, at a fly that is making its way slowly down my rib cage - killing the third drop of water in a minute ... Those that got away, joined by others from different quarters, form a layer of moisture under my body making a temporary - Shroud of Nagpur...

The window panes rattle as the wind shakes the place. The trees adjacent to the house tap on the roof while through the open window pours a cloud of dust. Out of the crack - more mortar falls...

The idea of a siesta ceases to be a good one and I heave myself out of bed. Involuntary I wince as my feet, the cracked skin that forms a semi halo of pain around my heels, touch the floor. I remind myself to apply some Vaseline.

Gritty and sticky from the admixture of sweat and dust I decide on a shower ... for the umpteenth time I scald myself having forgotten to let the water run till it becomes cooler. But - I am awake now ... Though tepid, the water does the trick. I feel refreshed. My temporary well-being is augmented by the fan's cooling action upon the wet skin. It feels deliciously cool.

Venturing forth from the comparative coolness of the house I step outside. The wind that moisture-laden crossed the west coast some 800 Km distance, long since lost its moisture picking up instead heat, and more heat as it traverses the sun-soaked Deccan plateau. A monster now pregnant with heat - spawning a bloodless destruction ...

The trees groan under the onslaught and the leaves, which during most other seasons seem to laugh and talk and whisper , now give off a death-rattle like noise. Some of the trees will never see another rainy season, never again laugh at a more benign sun, never again ...

In the middle-distance a cow slowly, painfully makes its way across the scorched ground.
Billowing heat waves make her seem an apparition, a ghost that floats rather than walks through the eerie desolate, sand-devil dotted landscape.

Halting, it bends down to look at something promising to eat then, slowly, wearily lift its head regretting the effort for whatever there was was not on the menu of any living creature -not even in the summer.

A dog, small enough to hug the shadow of a small shrub, normally making it his business to chase cows, disdains now to even give her a glance. The cow, expecting nothing else, walks by close enough to dust his nose which he twitches in annoyance.
She just stumbles on...

But for us - life goes on. Through the kindness of Sis. Bernice Gerard we got $21,000 to add the second floor to the dining hall. By the time the kids come back - that should be completed.

In the hope to get funds for our toilets, the remaining 40 odd kids dug the hole for the septic tank - 50'x30'x10' deep - that should hold a lot of digested rice ... In anticipation
of the goodness and graciousness of God, channeled through his saints, our friends, we will add another 150 kids to the home.

I know the economic situation looks bleak but what kind of faith is that - that rises and falls with the stock market?

But can you imagine - 650 happy, healthy, mad kids - in one place.

Rupchand, one of the staff, came Friday evening with a pastor and insisted to get baptized Saturday morning ... He did! Maundy Thursday three other college students did more or less the same thing.

In spite of what some of our Hindu friends think, we offer neither pressure nor price. Only the hope of Eternal Life!

One of our college students got married the beginning of the month and will look after his parent's farm.

Daniel, another young man, just having completed a diploma in education, will marry in a few days. He will teach in our other Children's Refuge.

I - am still single and loving every minute of it ...

But - I miss the kids ...

Walking across the playground I see a marble lying unattended ... An unheard of thing. The dispenser of happiness, the cause of many fights, the destroyer of pockets - lies unattended. What desolation indeed!

My furlough dates are more or less set. We, Yohan and I, will leave Bombay August 23rd. Spent till Sept. 1st in Germany. Will be in Toronto on Sept. 2nd. I have a speaking engagement at St. Catherines Sunday the 8th. And will be arriving at Vancouver September 9th.

For our new friends: We are not investing our resources in some wild adventure but in a worthwhile endeavor. The other day being somewhat depressed I asked Daniel: "Are we really doing something worthwhile?"

Groping for words while shaking his head and hands he replied: "There is no measure nor words to ..." and then he broke off...

Lots of love and many thanx and for making such a statement possible.

St. Francis and oodles of saintlets.