December 1995

Dear Saints and Aints.

Shalom from Nagpur.

The little light that guards my gate tries in vain to push back the darkness that, like some creatures out of myths and fantasy, tries to swallow it. The dew drops on leaf and blade nearby, though creating spots of beauty, are powerless to assist and their distant cousins, the stars, busy battling against the deep dark void of space, are but mute spectators.

It would be an exercise in futility to call upon the boys to sweep the darkness away with brooms or beat it into submission with sticks. I smile at the thought. While neither brooms nor sticks would prove of any use, to give them each a little candle - 800 little candles -- would tear the darkness to shreds, would beat it into submission. would make it flee . . . Sure, some of these little flames are but smoky and barely alive, sure some of them are but sparks, sure some of them will be quaffed out by the enemy of their soul, but others . . . how many others, will light other little candles and they - others . . . and others . . .

All this is possible because you shared your light and kindled a little flame by your kindness and compassion. In a way, this is what our homes are all about. Twelve hundred little candle bearers return every summer to their villages, their homes and their friends whispering strange stories of hope possible, of peace available and of joy at beck and call. This is but one of those intangible tangibles; the ripples on a lake that spread and spread touching unknown distant shores.

In the light of the above what are a few dripping water taps, paint flaking off the wall, the odd broken window or a door hanging askew on its hinges? What do a few runny noses matter? We all had them even if some wish they could forget. Of what great importance then are that some of their clothes look in a way that would make a naked man look dressed? Most have well-rounded bellies, happy grins and many even - a song . . . Of course some of these little kids smell awful when they get up in the morning; some even manage to keep that up for most of the day . . . You know the saying around this place: I can’t recognize your face but - the smell is familiar.­

But where else would they get a college education, a computer education or even simply an education for free - with transport thrown in for good measure? Sure sometimes the books are late, sure we can’t give all the note books they always seem to need but - what would they have had they stayed in the slums or in their villages? What direction would their life have taken? Where would they have ended up? On the street? In jail? Where else could a nine year old grow up to become president of the very place he grew up in? “I came in half-pants, one shirt and towel. I came as a zero and now God made me president of this society.” Yohan in his inauguration speech as president on December 31st 1994.

The future? I am no prophet only a dreamer. And dream I do - one hour a day and work - fourteen hours a day. In my dreaming I see more buildings - another floor for the school, a big conference hall which would replace the present dining hall, a concrete slab on our clinic, our food debts reduced to a limit that insures our staff against sleepless nights. I dream of more kids and more homes. I dream. . . May be I will have a chance to share some of my dreams with you while on furlough in BC and Alberta from January 21st to April 15th. Yohan will again come with me. Yohan took Angela, lady visitor, to the girls home some 14 hours driving distance from Nagpur. Dave and Lorraine went along for the ride. The four of them are good friends. It helps Yohan to develop his communication skills. I am not sure how well he will be in the pulpit though. Angela is thrilled with the girls refuge and told me some of her dreams for that place. Dave and Lorraine are great kids and a big help. We are very happy to have them about the place. They also finally turned into real missionaries - they are broke . . .

Christmas went by nicely. Yohan got eight goats as chief guests for our Christmas dinner; Santa Claus came and gave small food packs to the kids; the kids themselves put on dramas, skits and, in general, had fun. Over Christmas we had some missionary friends here from Hyderabad who brought along their friends, a family from Alberta. The ladies cooked a fantastic meal. Dave got slightly scratched on his foot by a snake. But, all in all we had a good time . . .

Of course I am a bit tired and weary; I turned 60 the 21st of November and look forward to a bit of change; I have no illusions about getting rest . . . Though it will be nice to meet old friends again and make new ones. Yohan too looks forward to meeting people he met last time.

Let me bid you farewell for now and in so doing let me again thank you for your friendship which has shown itself in so many beautiful ways.

In His great love

Frank, Yohan, Staff and Kids.