July 1993

Dear Saints and Aints.

Peace to you...

It is 5.30 AM and - raining.

With a singular lack of enthusiasm I look at the dismal sky, crowded with low hanging clouds, pregnant with rain. My eyes shift to the lines of kids ready for their morning bath. The little fellows are bare to the skin, the older ones with a towel wrapped around their waist. To no avail, the little guys try to shrink into themselves to offer, if possible, a smaller target to the cold drops of water. Irrelevantly I wonder if the drops of rain turn to steam on their bodies. On my own bare shoulders no steam is in evidence. But then I reason that in an almost 58 year old the internal heat must be somewhat less ... As the little kids, the pre-bathing formalities ended, streak bare across the playground to the showers, remembering a story, I suddenly grin. There was this man who got so angry that he tore off his hat, tore off his coat, tore off his shirt and then - he came to himself ... A puff of cold wind driving the rain a bit harder, makes me shiver. Turning my face to the grey sky again I whisper, "Father, I think this time I stretched a buck a bit too far, it tore and now - the “roof” over the playground leaks ...”

But thinking about that now is also irrelevant. The kids are here ... Many, many more need help. So I stretch and keep on taking more than common sense and funds permit. Then God steps in - provides - making nonsense of my common sense. My fears dissolve and I again catch a glimpse of that Other World, the Real World , where walking on water is a reality, where we see those who are for us, outnumber those who are against us, where the Power rests that subdues giants, breaks down city walls and makes it possible for an unhesitating foot to step into a river and - the waters part. Those glimpses are few but like some fairy tale way-bread or the cakes that supported Elijah for 40 days, they support me after the curtains are gently closed again. The lingering knowledge that, if we are but daring, courageous and trusting, the Powers of that Other World will assist us, keeps me going. And so, groping for the Hand of Fellowship of Him who governs that Unseen World, we dare to Stretch our hearts beyond the confines of our purse, take the hand of a little kid and tell him, "Come in, God will look after us."

My dreams match my faith. Not dreaming and sitting, waiting for things to happen, but dreaming - and working to make them happen. Though very much aware that my efforts do not bring about the things I want to achieve - I work hard. The promise to receive is, after all, linked to the command to ask; the promise of a plentiful harvest linked to the decree to work; the promise of an overwhelming victory linked to the exhortation to fight. Part of this work is to acquaint you with our needs.

So we made a calendar, which will reach you late, but the pictures are there. And, of course, there is this letter ... Out of the 1100 kids under our care at different places we have – 350 kids – sponsored. Our present budget calls for 15,000 Can. The funds we receive = $10,000 ...

Our place, at Nagpur, is packed with about 920 people – kids and staff – and still kids are coming ... Every conceivable place has turned into a dorm ...
The cold breeze and an increase in the volume of rain brings me out of my revery. I feel bone weary as I make my way to the house for a hot cup of coffee. Passing my garden my heart gets a lift. Yes, the sky is dismally grey. It rains! Everything is wet and muddy. Yet - in the garden - lovely green grass, roses and jasmine and a host of other flowers - are celebrating life.

The bougainvillaeas are in a mad rush to cover the garden wall making one of their own - consisting of blossoms of all colours and hues with green leaves liberally interspersed. "One day we will get the rest we crave," I muse, "meaningful rest, a rest which has nothing to do with sitting in an armchair waiting for death." But till then we will enjoy the fragrance of rose and jasmine and revel in the laughter of happy kids and - encouraged by glimpses of the Other World - work.

Your gifts of love: Tokens of concern and care are often the key that lets me pass through the veil to that Other World whose glimpses give me the courage to go on when fear tells me otherwise. Not only to go on but go on happily and cheerfully knowing that we are not alone in this.

Thanx Saints! You are a great bunch! We love you!

In His Great Love.

Saint Francis, Saint Yohan and Saintlets

Please pray for YOHAN as he struggles with being in charge of all the homes. This morning, after a good talk at breakfast, he told me, "I can't speak." I asked, "Why not?" "I am afraid!" He said. I asked, "Why?" His reply, " I am so young!"

An echo of Jeremiah's words - with a bit of Moses thrown in ... A great man in the making?