Dear Saints and Aints.
Shalom.
I stare in dismay at the monitor that offers me a wide range of aids to write a letter but as to what to write - none. It’s the same every time.
I gave up looking into the vast empty caverns of my mind for ideas. Now my eyes roam for inspiration over the various objects within sight. The two beautiful red flowers in the garden to my left give me that same blank stare I offer them. “Not in me” the weary wind sighs. “Not in me” the death rattle of a dry leave floating down from the upper reaches of the almond tree whispers; while branches on shrubs and trees moved by the wind seem to shake their head acknowledging their inability to help. The dust clouds rising from the trampled playground don’t even bother with a reply; they just go about covering everything with a layer of fine brown dust.
“Such a big place and not a shred of an idea.” Ready to give in to despair, my eyes fall on a small apple seed on my desk; about to flick it away I stop. Often in search for something we focus on the big, the seeming great and overlook the small, the seeming insignificant – the still small voice; or in this case, a small seed. I suddenly gaze in wonder at the tiny thing now resting in my palm. I ponder the miracle. That seed holds in its tiny confines – the tree. It contains in code the roots, the trunk, the branches and leaves of the apple tree. Nothing will ever be added but the nutrients to make it grow at a place and under conditions conducive to that process. And then there is the odd bird for decoration and company and keeping it free from bugs and to cheer it with songs. The bird’s wages - shade from the sun, shelter from the rain, a place to sleep and for food, the odd apple that takes its fancy. I am in the presence of the miraculous but – knew it not.
From the little seed my mind naturally turns to my kids – the men or woman yet to be.
I suddenly grin remembering a little doggerel:
“When your trials are many,
and your rewards are few;
think that the mighty oak tree - was once a nut like you.”
An encouraging truth! Some might feel offended at being called a nut; I have no such problem. I suggested the inscription for my gravestone to read:
Don’t cry.
Below lies only the shell.
The nut has gone.
In a more serious vein … The other day while working myself up into a rage about the persecutions of Christians, the corruption, the greed and all that makes up our world, God penetrated my fury with a still small voice, “For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son …” and continued that it is this world you are just now raging about that He loves; this world that His Son died for and this world that He calls me to love … He stepped into the septic tank and asks me to follow Him – to find my kids; for Bapu to follow Him and find his kids – the tiny seeds with the promise of a great life in them.
People are thrilled when they hear some kids do well in various professions and vocations marking it as success. For me to see a genuine grin on a kid’s face, to hear the sound of laughter devoid of derision and free from malice – this for me is the beginning of success. The rest, no doubt, will follow by making a good education available to them which we are certainly doing.
And in the process of doing all these things, Paul’s lament is mine, “Who is sufficient for these things?”And I worry! When, the other day, I went through my list of things to worry about, God spoke to my heart, “Looking after you for twenty-seven years in just this place doesn’t that merit me some trust?” Ashamed I threw the list away.
Lately I came across Bob Dylan’s call for change:
“Your sons and your daughters
are beyond your command.
Your old road is
rapidly agin’.”
But like King Solomon in Ecclesiastes, Bob Dylan concerns himself with that which is under the sun, this world. The old road of love though trodden with weary steps, burdened with care, will never change, will never age! And that is the old road we are treading.
Like God’s love, mine focuses on the eternal – Heaven, not just the temporal and transient though the latter is certainly not set aside or forgotten; the happy laughter of our kids is a testimony to that. Another testimony is the many trees, shrubs and flowers that, in various gardens dot our compound beautifying it – cared for by our kids who are developing a love for beauty.
Now to more mundane matters … Within one month I travelled twice to the girls’ home with foreign visitors. Like our home in Nagpur the girls’ home is an amazing place. Like the Nagpur home it is overcrowded with a bunch of happy kids; the chatter of girls’ voices, match that of the boys’ -- decibel for decibel. It is run by Malji and Yamuna Raut, Yohan’s elder brother and wife. Their daughter Sonali is the Head Mistress of the high school there.
Some of you might wonder what happened to Yohan who, for many years was slated as my successor and – for many years steered the homes through difficult times. He is still the President of Prem Sewa but his poor health does not provide him with the stamina required to run the daily affairs of the homes. Priya his wife is afflicted with sickle cells – for which there is no cure. Then they have two baby girls – one year apart – of which one is adopted. On the day to day basis he now concerns himself with looking after our building efforts. The big guesthouse looks great; it is now air-conditioned. This we will also do for the other guest rooms. We are building a small canteen where the kids can buy candies etc. Our next bigger project will be a clinic; we will progress according to the available funds.
Bapu is the pillar of the homes – a much maligned one and frequently underestimated yet still he is a man whose wisdom and clear thinking steers the homes and society through the different kinds of difficulties. As I might have written before, as the Managing director/Administrator his biggest job is to keep those who hate him from those who are still undecided … The top is a lonely place. Nevertheless, the chaos my personality imprinted on this place is slowly giving way to order as he imprints his own personality upon it; the pioneering stage is past; the spirit of adventure is giving way to a more cautious approach to life. Bapu wants his finances in order. In this respect it is a time for change. As a Chinese proverb goes:
”If we don’t change direction we will end up where we are going.”
I am still a kid who looks at the world and to God through the eyes of a child in wonder and amazement at who He is and what He did and does. I am helping Yohan and Bapu when and where needed but expend my greatest effort in becoming dispensable -- like the seed that has to die so that others may live and grow. I am indeed a very blessed and happy man!
Be assured of our gratitude for your prayers, your gifts and your love -- the nutrients that make the little seeds grow.
Mega blessings!
Frank and all…
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