School started last Wednesday. Each morning one of us goes over to the girls hostel (dormitory) at 6:30, and “helps” them bathe and get ready for the day. Even the youngest (four years old) seem to be very self sufficient and able to take care of themselves, so it is a bit of a struggle for us as we don’t feel useful during this time. It is a good lesson to help show that God doesn’t need our help either, and so we are, in a sense, “useless,” in that everything we “do” for Him is really His gift to us.
At 9:00, we go and cut vegetables for the children’s lunch. Beets, potatoes, onions, cabbage, along with other vegetables that we don’t have in the states (at least as far as I know). Cutting the vegetables becomes a game, as the cooks (who don’t know a bit of English) try and tell us what size to cut the vegetables for each different curry.
11:15 we head over to the school, where we observe the first and second grade English class. First and second means the four to 8 year olds, so it’s a pretty wide age range. In a few days we’ll start teaching English ourselves. Ay yi. There is one teacher for the 36 children. She hits them with a stick when they don’t listen or are acting up, which personally I think is because we are in the room distracting them.
And then comes my favorite/most difficult part of the day: five o’clock. We head over to watch/play with the girls till around 7:30. Everyone crowds around us: “My name, sister?, My name sister?, My name sister?” as 8 children ask and tell us their names all at once. The worst part is that they then expect us to remember all 100 of their names the next day. It breaks my heart to see their crestfallen faces when we cant remember their names. Pravina, Pradiba ,Priya, Gogeela, Ramalakshmi, Kaveeda, Kaveeah, Yoha, Vashna, Asha, Meena, Salvarani, Sarasudi, Marysudi, Sobena, Velmedi, Vijitra, Natia, Satiya, Cameela, and the list goes on. J
We then play all sorts of games, and they try to teach us Tamil and practice their English on us (Superman, Singing in the rain, days of the week). All of them, even the older ones, are very clingy. They fight over who gets to hold our hand or play with us. If we swing a little 6 or 7 year old around by the arms, the 110, 11, 12, and 13 year olds want us to do the same to them. I think our muscles are going to be bigger when we come home. ;) They also delight in teaching us Indian dances.
There is one little girl, Ramalakshmi, and her little brother, whom everyone calls Tambi (little brother). He is in shock, and so he stays with his sister at the girls hostel. They are both so lonely and needy that they cling to me much of the time. The first day or two they wouldn’t smile at all, but now you can hardly erase the smiles from their faces. Rama insists I call her “Tungachi” (little sister), and she calls me “Akka,” (big sister). Most of the children call us “sister.” Yesterday when another little girl tried to call me Akka, Rama got this entirely fierce look on her face, and hugged me tightly. “MY Akka!!” she said. These two are favorites.
At night, we take turns sleeping over at the girls hostel, or perhaps staying would be a better word, as there is nary any sleep involved. We take care of the children when/if they cry in the night. (although apparently I am the only one that has really experienced this).
And so goes each day. Sunday evening we will start teaching Sunday school for the girls also.
Sierra is all the boys and middle (9-12) girls favorite. I think its because she can throw balls and play games with the best of them, whereas Bridge and I are lacking in these skills.she just has this joy about her that they all love. Bridge has taken on the older girls (ages 12-15). They like to sit in a circle off by themselves, so sweet Bridge goes and sits with them. They love her for this. I think that mostly the children all feel great love from these two daughters of our Heavenly Dad. It’s impossible not to. I mostly play with the littlest ones, although at times we play with all ages.
Pray for love. That we would love each and every child as Jesus does. It is hard to love the spoiled difficult ones.
Pray for rain. They haven’t had real rain here in several weeks, and the farmers need it for their crops, as well as just a regular need for water.
Pray for only Jesus Christ to be seen in us, that we would not be seen, but Christ, and Christ alone.
Praying for you all as it comes to mind.
Your sisters in His service.