July 1999

Dear Saints and Aints.

Shalom from Nagpur.

It is 5.10 AM. This morning I beat the alarm by five minutes ... My bed sheets look unruffled - the sign of a good sleep. I feel fresh and ready for another day. For a moment I lie quietly watching a lizard hunting for an early breakfast on the mosquito screen that covers my windows. Through the open window comes the sound of pitter-patter of raindrops. It is a soothing sound. The plants and trees have their bath. I peek out but with the dawn still some 15 minutes in the future, it is still too dark to see anything.

While the coffee water heats up I have a quick cold shower. The length of the shower is directly related to the temperature of the water. This morning it is brief.

My hands hugging the hot cup of coffee, I step outside. It is a depressing sight. From a sky garbed in all possible shades of gray heavy rains lash the compound. I smile briefly as I cover my cup with my hand thinking that otherwise it would be like "widow’s the cruse of oil that never failed". I slosh through ankle-deep water that covers most of the road as I make my way to the big dorm. "A tar road would be nice", I muse and so would be a million Dollars ...

A little boy, alone by himself, sits huddled beneath a tree along the road. He is bare but for the towel wrapped around his waist scarcely covering it. Raindrops, finding their way through the leafy canopy above his head, drip on his bare shoulders and make their way down his chest disappearing in the towel. He does not seem to notice or care. His beautiful eyes blank, he stares at something only he can see - may be a smoke filled little hut in some faraway village where mother busies herself around the open fire ... I smile at him but there is no answering smile. He looks miserable and seems disconsolate in the gloomy semi-darkness of the wakening dawn. I walk away leaving him alone - the kindest thing I can probably do for him. My heart aches.

Though the clamor of the rising bell has shattered the silence few have heeded it. There is little activity but for a few kids answering the call of nature. The big dorm still lies quiet. The staff, mainly young men in their late teens or early twenties, is as reluctant as the kids to venture out into the rain to make them have their early morning bath. The kids, and they along with them, would have to line up on the playground - in the rain. Some of them are willing to let the kids simply dress and go to school sans bath. As I took photos last night of the little fellows sleeping and saw many wet patches on kids where no rain drops ever fell, I was adamant they have their bath.

Lashed by heavy rains the playground turned into a huge mud pie offering myriads of tempting possibilities to the little kids - but not now ... Lined up on a spot that is still somewhat solid they wait for their turn to the showers. The little fellows in their pre-Fall "Paradise attire" try to make themselves smaller to accomplish the impossible - to avoid the raindrops. Smelling the whole bunch while standing there, I consider the rain a - pre-soak. Their sojourn in the bathroom is rather brief but at least - the smell is gone.

As usual, while the kids have their bath, I walk the periphery of the playground. The trees we planted some three years ago along the eastern and southern edge of the playground are doing well - like the kids, skinny but growing ... Having survived three scorching summers, high winds and oodles of kids, they will live. Some small flowers the kids planted at various places look bright and beautiful more so because of the surrounding gloom.

Most mornings preparing breakfast is no problem, today it is. The company that provides us with gas cylinders is on strike and so cooking is done over open fires. Smoke billows out of the makeshift shelter that Yohan got the kids to build on the foundation of the yet to be dining hall. Kids stir big cooking pots to provide food for other kids. And still it rains.

If you huddle somewhere with nothing to do but to think about it, misery feeds on misery. So, rain or no rain we get the kids to work. While the little fry has breakfast and then sent off to school - on our compound, the others with school in the afternoon - work. The compound needs to be scoured of all the pieces of paper that kids seem to shed like a mangy old cat hair. I try to encourage them with words - few of which are nice. My attempt fails. Their hair plastered to their head and feet squelching through the mud - few love me this morning. I can see on their faces that at the bottom of their wish list for me today are broken legs, malaria and a bad throat infection. I dare not even consider the items at the top of that list. But having gone through this many a rainy season with different groups of "ill-wishers" and having sustained no ill-effects but a bit of a cold from standing in the rain, I fear not for my safety ... I also know that when later on I hand out some hot tea and biscuits all is forgiven and forgotten. This besides, I stand out in the rain with them without an umbrella in a show of solidarity.

By about 8.30 AM, the work period over, I make my way back to my room slightly tired and more then slightly wet and Yohan and I have breakfast. My tummy feels a bit queasy. Last night I overindulged in a snack of deep-fried grains/cereals and roasted peanuts. I am afraid that prior to using the oil for frying the grain/cereals it was used to sooth the grinding gears of the truck that hauled it. I never learn.

Wrapped in companionable silence, Yohan and I eat breakfast - a slice of toast with jam or cheese. Our thoughts are on the homes and how to make them better places for kids to live and to grow up in. But we are working on that. Though both dreamers who basically dream about the same things - with the exception that in Yohan's dream somewhere a wife may be hidden - we work very differently. Yet his style of functioning is what is needed now; both his quiet and solid approach is beginning to get him the respect of all. The Society tabled a resolution, now before the Charity Commissioner of Nagpur, to make him President of the Society for life. Another one of my dreams - coming true.

As to work ... As the money comes in for the various projects we have been promised, the gym will be built and so will the school office be; the toilets for the school will see the light of the world and other facilities added to the ones we have. The first half of the school compound is done, the technical school has an additional room, the administrative building is getting the final touches and our bus has a shelter. In a few days a 40' container with used clothing and other things from ERDO will be here and hopefully soon we will get the funds for a tractor. The Bible Translation is almost done. Our school now teaches classes up to grade 10 and our little church keeps growing.

As always our thanx goes to you for supplying us the wherewithal to do these things. There is no pride or boasting in me only a deep joy for being able to help so many kids to have a life different from what they would have had. It is a beautiful world. My world. The world of a carpenter; the son of a roof maker. I smile at the thought. Bored at board meeting, never invited to strategic planning meetings, and ignored at "serious" discussions about policies; yet - creating a world that will outlast them all. It is a world where lives and destinies are shaped and changed; a world where kids become men and women - changing their world; a world that will impact the world.

A beautiful world. A million, million thanx to you for helping us to create this world.

In His great love.

Frank, Yohan, staff and kids ...