January 1992

Dear Saints and Aints

Shalom!

Home!

Home again!

The screeching of a woman from the neighboring village rents the quietness of the night. Another domestic quarrel ... The verbal deluge, though unintelligible to me, is pregnant with frustration anger, rage and so I sense, with an overwhelming sadness. Sadness at the futility of it all, the mess that constitutes her life and the state of her kids ‑ beyond her power to. change... The hovel she shares with a drunkard gambler for a husband and, curled up on some filthy rags in a corner: three dirty, hungry, sick little kids, is too small to contain this outpouring of misery. And so, standing outside, screeching at her husband, she pours out her soul in angry, bitter accusations ...

To most, but another domestic quarrel ‑ to me, an "Eli, Eli Sabachteni" ‑ "My God, my God, why have you forsaken me!" of a soul in torment. But unlike that of the Savior ‑ by her own decree. How truly forsaken are those who disregard the God who, in matching sadness, so oft called:

“How oft I have longed to gather your children together
like a hen gathers her chicks under her wings.
But you were not willing.
Look your house is left you desolate"

Slowly the screeching turns into sobs that are finally stifled by exhaustion and an uneasy sleep

My kids ‑ living in a different world; a different life ‑ bathed, fed, wrapped in their blankets ‑ sleep peacefully ... At times I think myself the most fortunate man in the world. God is indeed good to me beyond limits or measure, beyond even words. This is the kingpin of my life, the fulcrum, the sonum bonum, the raison d'etre. Name it what you want in any language you want. I love because I am loved; I care because I am cared for; I forgive and pity because my whole relationship with God depends on His pity, His forgiveness. I bask in this like a sunbather in the hot sun; like a baby in his mother's arms or a boy on his dad's lap. Surely, if anybody has GOOD NEWS ‑ we have it. My attitude towards life is colored by this ...

To me, laughter comes easy ... I consider a serious demeanor no indicator of a person's degree of seriousness unless, of course, being serious about being serious constitutes a serious matter. The length of one's face does not demonstrate seriousness, otherwise the cows ... Some people wear faces of a length that, so desirous, any cow could sue them for impersonation ...

The only seriousness I am concerned with is that which is serious about that which we are doing and that that seriousness translates itself in action. In action equal to the seriousness of what we are serious about. That we should be serious doing that which we are serious about, is, however, a myth I do not subscribe to. Nevertheless, if any one is inclined otherwise, be he granted the privilege of being thus, for, after all ‑ nobody is perfect ...

The kids, though being called names their mothers never gave them, are happy. They feel secure ... I yell and I shout, I make them work and wash, insist on a straight line and threaten them with dire consequences should they not keep the noise level down ... And yet they see me and ‑ strange as it may seem ‑ they are glad. I love what I am doing and where I am doing it. I do love these crazy, noisy, smelly kids ...

At present, my joy of being back home is slightly tainted by an upset tummy, a grandfather of a cold and an infected foot. Probably bit the latter myself ... Anyhow, how I managed to get all those things is beyond the reasoning power of this poor mortal. Needless to say, thoughts of my mortality are, at present, uppermost in my mind ... It is no comfort to me either that only the good die young" as I am past the age where "dying young' constitutes a possibility ... Alas! Here I am telling everybody about heaven and I am worried of getting there – too early.

With money from Bernice Gerard Sunday Line, we purchased a five wheeler auto rickshaw. Our big draft last month, your gifts, enabled us to pay half of our food debt. Money I received from friends will, more or less, pay for my new house which we are already in the process of building. A group of older boys are cleaning out the big well. It
` is a quite a job but it already pays by a tripling of the amount of water we now have. In
the summer, when the kids are gone, we will dig deeper. During work hours the kids are cleaning out the big hole for the septic tank which the rains have filled with mud and the kids ‑ with old car tires. Masons are completing the big hall (dormitory) and we already ordered the windows. If nothing else I know how to get things moving.

Yohan enjoyed his visit to Germany and Canada immensely. I cautioned him that he was
only a tourist Citizens weren't fed 17 ounce steaks nor oodles of pizzas and heavenly pastries, nor sundry kinds of sausages or cheese for breakfast. Neither could many afford to drive about in a new Ford Taurus nor be flown all over the creation, staying in hotels and motels. Besides all that, most citizens would work eight hours and probable drive 2-4 hours to do that work and, what is most galling ‑ citizens pay taxes ...

Our time in Canada was too short to meet everybody. But the friends I met, I thoroughly enjoyed and those I did not ‑ I terribly missed. Like the joy ‑ the regrets and loss are mine ...

Thank you for your forbearance, for your friendship thank you for your support: The help which helps us to help some ‑ to live in a different world ‑ living a different life.

In His great Love ...

Saint Francis, Yohan & Assorted Saintlets.