I took a walk the other day. I suppose it was for no other reason than being outside on a beautiful California day. I walked in the general direction of a shopping center near our house, a small Christian bookstore I’d never been in before was where I was headed. After crossing the intersections and waiting for a police officer to pass I quickly jaywalked and stepped into the store.
I realized pretty quick that I wasn’t going to find the book I was looking for here amongst the Catholic icons and prayer beads. So I turned, thanked the lady and headed back home. As I passed neighbors houses that I didn’t know and homes and lawns that I usually drive by without really thinking about I slowed as my eyes caught sight of something laying in the street.
Before your minds race with the thoughts of dead animals or thousand dollar bills let me tell you it wasn’t anything like that. In fact it was something much simpler. Something that for ages had been lost in the recesses of my mind. There was something on the ground that began to stir in me the remembrance of careless days. Lying there in the street were helicopters.
Two weeks ago I entered a school in Ukraine. This isn’t a normal average High School that you would probably ever encounter here in the U.S. The students here were all defined loosely as orphans in one way or another. Through either an inability of the parents to care for them or the complete absence of parents; these kids lived here and studied here. They would spend most of their lives here striving and attempting to live out semi-normal existences.
Our responsibility that day was a simple one. We went to the school to distribute the Book of Hope to the children and show the animated film we use in schools around the world. As one of the groups of students were watching the film I noticed that there were other students still in class. Later I found out that the church we were working with had already been in the school and already distributed to and shown the film to the other students. Vitalek’s story would capture our attention.
Just 13 years old he lived at the school without parents. Regardless of what happened to his parents he was there and none of us wanted to ask what had brought him to the school. The teachers began telling us more of his story. He wasn’t a very good student. He was very disrespectful, used bad language and didn’t get a long with the other students. The teachers had always had a difficult time with him. At one point he ran away from the school to Kiev. Leaving the familiarity of friends, teachers and “home” he left to go two-hours away to the capitol. After living there for a few months he returned to the school and a few days later the church team arrived to show the film and distribute the Book of Hope.
As Vitalek sat and watched the film the scenes of Jesus being crucified on the cross brought tears to his eyes. The teachers would tell us they were all confused and shocked to see this happening. Vitalek’s toughness and years of rebellion began melting away. The teachers would tell us afterward that they’ve seen a complete change in his life. His attitude and behavior has changed. He is kind and caring. He no longer uses bad language and he does something now he never used to do… he smiles. Something none of the teachers had ever seen before. When I asked Vitalek what happened in his life and why he had left the school he replied softly and simply “I’ll never do that again”.
Do you remember helicopters? That’s what we called them. People may have called them something different. But I have a feeling you probably remember them. Those little seeds that fell off some kind of tree that had that one little “wing” on them. We would throw them up into the air and they would spin in circles coming down over us. We would gather up handfuls of them and throw them up into the air. It was always so exciting looking up and seeing hundreds of little spinning helicopters floating down towards you.
As I walked passed them that day I wanted to stop and pick them up and throw them into the air and recall many times of boyhood and the simple times before life got complicated and difficult. I wanted to stop and pick up as many as I could and throw them into the sky. For some reason I started to think about what my neighbors would think if they saw me throwing my arms around as these little things floated down around me. I began to think about how silly that might look and what people would say.
Do you remember the simple times? Remember when life was easy? Remember when your biggest concern was what mom had packed in your lunch that day? You didn’t think to not stop to pick up as many helicopters as your hands could hold because you didn’t care what people thought or what people would say… you just did it.
So I stopped. I picked one up and looked at it for a moment and I thought about Vitalek, a boy who’s probably lived more difficult and harsh days in his life than I’ll ever live in mine. I thought about how in comparison to his life, mine seems easy. I looked at it again and threw it as high as I could and watched it come down… spinning in circles over me. And I thought about how compared to many people around the world, my life is easy.
3.27.2008
2.25.2008
A likely conversation
-Shop Owner: Namaste.
-Driver: Namaste.
-Shop Owner: Can I help you? (said in Tamil, the local language here)
-Driver: Well yah actually, I’m looking for something, I’m looking for a horn. (Also said in Tamil, as is most of this conversation)
-A horn? We have plenty of those here. What kind of car is it for or what kind of sound are you looking for?
-Well I really want something that is pretty unique.
-Ok, let’s start with what kind of sound you’re wanting. You want something Loud and Proud? Something High and Shrill? Maybe something in the middle of those?
-Well, no not really, I’m kind of after something that’s really unique. Something that when people hear it they absolutely unmistakably know that it’s me.
-Shop Owner: Wow. Well that changes things. What kind of car do you have?
-Driver: I suppose I should have cleared that up at the beginning. It’s actually for a government bus that I drive. I need a new horn for it.
- Now I’m tracking. I know how you government buses run. You guys only have one speed “Get outta my way!”
- Haha. Yah that’s us.
- Well I guess I could set you up with something big and loud, you know something that’ll really scare those pedestrians, cars, auto rickshaws, bicyclists, cow carts, donkeys, other buses, trucks, cows, sheep and motorcyclists that get in your way.
- Um, I don’t know, like I said I’m looking for something really unique. Well, here’s what’s going on. You see there’s this tall missionary white guy coming here to Madurai. He’s going to be on my bus for at least 6 hours going from Salem to Madurai. My friends and I are just trying to make sure it’s an event he’ll never forget.
- Shop Owner: Haha! Those foreigners, they shake your hand one minute and pull out the germ killer the next… Haha… So besides the horn what else do you have planned? I mean did you strip down your seats so there’s a heavy metal bar in his back the whole time?
- Check
- Did you make sure there would be plenty of other people on the bus so he’s sitting on a bench seat crammed between a person and the window that the sun will be blazing through the whole time?
- Check
- Did you move the bench seats closer together to make sure his knee is grinding into the metal seat in front of him?
- Check
- Did you work down your gear box and transmission so every time you shift it grinds the gears and makes him think the bus is gonna break down?
- Check
- Did you make sure the road you’re taking is full of “diversions” that will take you over extremely bumpy gravel roads? And you’re going to have to be swerving around the whole time?
- Check and double check.
- Did you plan on stopping only once during the 6 hours for him to stretch and stand out in the hot sun drinking lukewarm coconut juice?
- Driver: Yep. Got it all. The whole experience.
- Shop Owner: Haha. Man that’s great. So now you’re looking to fill in the sound? You want to really send this kid home with an experience unlike any other?
- That’s the idea. See before he gets on my bus he’ll have spent 20 hours on the overnight train, and we both know how that can be. He’s gonna be on the top bunk with five other people in the cabin. The fans just inches above his head will be going all night. I already have people who’re planning on flicking on the lights every couple minutes. The coffee and tea guys are going to continually be walking through the halls, people’s phones will be going off all night, the guy across from him will cough loudly in his direction, other trains will pass and blow their horns and there will be a definite lack of sleep. So, by the time he gets on my bus he…
- Will he basically loathe the day he was born?
- Maybe not loathe, but definitely despise to a great degree any choice he had in coming here.
-Shop owner: Haha. Ok I think I got it.
-Driver: So what do you have?
- Shop owner: Well if I’d have known that was what you’re looking for, I would’ve taken this baby out a long time ago. Take a look at this. This my friend is the MASH- ITW 6000
- WOW. The what?
- The MASH- ITW 6000. The Most Annoying Sounding Horn In The World 6000. Guaranteed to make that kid’s hair stand up on the back of his neck. Scientifically proven to make them grit their teeth and make their toes pop.
-Driver: What’s it sound like? I mean can you describe it?
-Shop Owner: Hard to, but actually they have a description on the box here. Let’s see, one part “baby’s shrill cry”, one part “cat’s temperature being taken”, one part “nails on a chalkboard”, one part “hands on an inflated balloon” and of course one part “Early AOL dial-up”.
-Driver: Wow sounds exactly like what I’m looking for.
-Shop Owner: Well it probably is if you’re really looking to make that kid squirm in his seat. Here’s the deal though. You’ve got to really ride this thing. I mean you’ve really got to use it. See it uses some kind of special high pitched whistling mechanism that starts to deteriorate if you don’t use it every 30 seconds. And when you use it, really try to do multiple shots in quick succession or a long drawn out sound like when you stop at a station and the bus in front of you isn’t moving and you need to make sure he knows you’re behind him. So when I say really ride it, you’ve got to sound that thing loud for at least 45 seconds to a minute and a half.
-Driver: Wow this is great. Thanks for your help. I think this is exactly what I’m looking for. This should be just the thing to put him over the edge. I think I’ll take it.
- Shop Owner: Great. Anything else?
- Driver: No, I think that’s it. Thanks so much.
- Shop Owner: Well I’m glad I could help out. Hope that works for you. Have a good day….
- Driver: Thanks.
- Shop Owner: Sure thing… hey wait just one minute…
- Driver: Yah?
- Shop Owner: How exactly do you know so much about this kid? I mean how do you know all these things about him?
- Driver: Huh?... oh that? I just read his blog.
- Shop Owner: Got it, alright, good luck.
- Driver: Thanks.
-Driver: Namaste.
-Shop Owner: Can I help you? (said in Tamil, the local language here)
-Driver: Well yah actually, I’m looking for something, I’m looking for a horn. (Also said in Tamil, as is most of this conversation)
-A horn? We have plenty of those here. What kind of car is it for or what kind of sound are you looking for?
-Well I really want something that is pretty unique.
-Ok, let’s start with what kind of sound you’re wanting. You want something Loud and Proud? Something High and Shrill? Maybe something in the middle of those?
-Well, no not really, I’m kind of after something that’s really unique. Something that when people hear it they absolutely unmistakably know that it’s me.
-Shop Owner: Wow. Well that changes things. What kind of car do you have?
-Driver: I suppose I should have cleared that up at the beginning. It’s actually for a government bus that I drive. I need a new horn for it.
- Now I’m tracking. I know how you government buses run. You guys only have one speed “Get outta my way!”
- Haha. Yah that’s us.
- Well I guess I could set you up with something big and loud, you know something that’ll really scare those pedestrians, cars, auto rickshaws, bicyclists, cow carts, donkeys, other buses, trucks, cows, sheep and motorcyclists that get in your way.
- Um, I don’t know, like I said I’m looking for something really unique. Well, here’s what’s going on. You see there’s this tall missionary white guy coming here to Madurai. He’s going to be on my bus for at least 6 hours going from Salem to Madurai. My friends and I are just trying to make sure it’s an event he’ll never forget.
- Shop Owner: Haha! Those foreigners, they shake your hand one minute and pull out the germ killer the next… Haha… So besides the horn what else do you have planned? I mean did you strip down your seats so there’s a heavy metal bar in his back the whole time?
- Check
- Did you make sure there would be plenty of other people on the bus so he’s sitting on a bench seat crammed between a person and the window that the sun will be blazing through the whole time?
- Check
- Did you move the bench seats closer together to make sure his knee is grinding into the metal seat in front of him?
- Check
- Did you work down your gear box and transmission so every time you shift it grinds the gears and makes him think the bus is gonna break down?
- Check
- Did you make sure the road you’re taking is full of “diversions” that will take you over extremely bumpy gravel roads? And you’re going to have to be swerving around the whole time?
- Check and double check.
- Did you plan on stopping only once during the 6 hours for him to stretch and stand out in the hot sun drinking lukewarm coconut juice?
- Driver: Yep. Got it all. The whole experience.
- Shop Owner: Haha. Man that’s great. So now you’re looking to fill in the sound? You want to really send this kid home with an experience unlike any other?
- That’s the idea. See before he gets on my bus he’ll have spent 20 hours on the overnight train, and we both know how that can be. He’s gonna be on the top bunk with five other people in the cabin. The fans just inches above his head will be going all night. I already have people who’re planning on flicking on the lights every couple minutes. The coffee and tea guys are going to continually be walking through the halls, people’s phones will be going off all night, the guy across from him will cough loudly in his direction, other trains will pass and blow their horns and there will be a definite lack of sleep. So, by the time he gets on my bus he…
- Will he basically loathe the day he was born?
- Maybe not loathe, but definitely despise to a great degree any choice he had in coming here.
-Shop owner: Haha. Ok I think I got it.
-Driver: So what do you have?
- Shop owner: Well if I’d have known that was what you’re looking for, I would’ve taken this baby out a long time ago. Take a look at this. This my friend is the MASH- ITW 6000
- WOW. The what?
- The MASH- ITW 6000. The Most Annoying Sounding Horn In The World 6000. Guaranteed to make that kid’s hair stand up on the back of his neck. Scientifically proven to make them grit their teeth and make their toes pop.
-Driver: What’s it sound like? I mean can you describe it?
-Shop Owner: Hard to, but actually they have a description on the box here. Let’s see, one part “baby’s shrill cry”, one part “cat’s temperature being taken”, one part “nails on a chalkboard”, one part “hands on an inflated balloon” and of course one part “Early AOL dial-up”.
-Driver: Wow sounds exactly like what I’m looking for.
-Shop Owner: Well it probably is if you’re really looking to make that kid squirm in his seat. Here’s the deal though. You’ve got to really ride this thing. I mean you’ve really got to use it. See it uses some kind of special high pitched whistling mechanism that starts to deteriorate if you don’t use it every 30 seconds. And when you use it, really try to do multiple shots in quick succession or a long drawn out sound like when you stop at a station and the bus in front of you isn’t moving and you need to make sure he knows you’re behind him. So when I say really ride it, you’ve got to sound that thing loud for at least 45 seconds to a minute and a half.
-Driver: Wow this is great. Thanks for your help. I think this is exactly what I’m looking for. This should be just the thing to put him over the edge. I think I’ll take it.
- Shop Owner: Great. Anything else?
- Driver: No, I think that’s it. Thanks so much.
- Shop Owner: Well I’m glad I could help out. Hope that works for you. Have a good day….
- Driver: Thanks.
- Shop Owner: Sure thing… hey wait just one minute…
- Driver: Yah?
- Shop Owner: How exactly do you know so much about this kid? I mean how do you know all these things about him?
- Driver: Huh?... oh that? I just read his blog.
- Shop Owner: Got it, alright, good luck.
- Driver: Thanks.
11.07.2007
Constance
Judging from her height and her stance she looks no more than ten, yet experience tells me she’s at least thirteen. She sits across from me in the car as she guides us to her house down the dirt road. She motions to the right with her hand, but says left, I look at her puzzled, remind her quickly of the English words and she looks embarrassed and says left again with the motion and the word. We pull up to a small cement structure no bigger than my bedroom at home. Behind it stands a crude makeshift metal structure even smaller than the cinder block room in front. “Here” she says and opens the door to let herself out.
Stompy is what the coordinator called her. I wasn’t sure exactly why at first, but when I learn the meaning in Afrikaans I realize that it’s in reference to her height. She told us she didn’t like being called Stompy. She liked Constance better. I call her whatever she wants and give her as much dignity and respect I can. She’s a small girl, living in a small house on the outskirts of a big city in South Africa. Her story is going to become even more colorful.
As I walk towards the house another child comes to greet us, this girl is seven or eight, beautiful smile and inquisitive eyes. This is Constance’s “sister”. A quick glance into the home reveals a small table and two chairs. A bed is hidden behind the door. No water in the house, except they tell me, when the rains come and the water floods the area; the bigger problem then are the snakes that get into the “house”. Much of the immediate family aren’t here, at least not anymore.
Two adults appear from the homes, one is Constance’s mother, yet neither one look old enough. One is a bit younger than I am and the other I guess is a young twenty something. They are the caretakers for the children. Neither of them work, the only jobs available involve an unthinkable lifestyle. Constance lives here in this small home with nine other family members.
An aunt, a father and her grandmother have all died recently. I didn’t ask what the cause of death was, but I could have taken a guess with 98% accuracy. Even if I did ask the answer would be pneumonia or TB, not the real causes. The family has no male influence helping provide any necessities. The food they eat comes from relief organizations providing handouts for two of the children, the family stretches it to provide for all, but that is all they are given.
If I were to tell you AIDS killed the family members, somehow our minds immediately wander to think of the immoral lifestyle they lived and how they probably contracted the disease. Our minds try to understand or comprehend how their sin caused this type of situation and thus resulted in their deaths. If I was to tell you AIDS caused the death of the family members would it shock you? Or do we simply justify it thinking that their sin has consequences? Unfortunately actions do have consequences, sometimes on those most innocent.
I ask Constance the names of the people living in the home. She has difficulty remembering and listing them. She gets to about eight and then has to start over. She has a brother and sister, I think. It’s hard to tell who really are brothers, sisters or cousins. Most all of the kids attend school, but studying is a problem when there’s not enough food to keep their minds from wandering and school uniforms cost money. December is coming, most people will be on holiday, the food may not be delivered during the next month or so due to a lack of drivers. Think about that as you sit down for Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner.
If I told you AIDS has nearly destroyed this family leaving eight children orphaned would it really matter? Who cares how it happened, what difference does it make? It’s a situation that continues to happen. Our responsibility isn’t to judge or point fingers. Our responsibility is to care for those who need help. Our responsibility is to cry out to God for His Justice and the saving knowledge of Him to be revealed. Our responsibility is not to try and understand or figure out what happened. Our responsibility is to share Christ with a hurting and victimized world.
As we return in the car to the feeding center for the orphan children, Constance, her younger sister and a neighbor boy take advantage of the free transport down the road. When we reach our destination I open the door, get out and turn around to sweep up the younger sister in my arms to help her out. Her weight and frame tell me quickly she most likely will not escape the disease that has claimed much of her family. I set her down but she doesn’t go far from my side. I see Constance heading towards the other children that have gathered for their meal of the day. Rice.
Whatever our understanding or stereotypes about AIDS and the pandemic that is absolutely destroying nations; there are millions of innocent victims who will someday be nothing more than a statistic in a book. Was it Constance’s fault she finds herself in a daily struggle to survive? Is Constance to blame for the immense pressure she may someday carry trying to provide for her younger siblings? Is it her fault that someday shortly her mother’s life may be taken as well? Is Constance to blame that she too carries the same death sentence?
thanks for reading...
Stompy is what the coordinator called her. I wasn’t sure exactly why at first, but when I learn the meaning in Afrikaans I realize that it’s in reference to her height. She told us she didn’t like being called Stompy. She liked Constance better. I call her whatever she wants and give her as much dignity and respect I can. She’s a small girl, living in a small house on the outskirts of a big city in South Africa. Her story is going to become even more colorful.
As I walk towards the house another child comes to greet us, this girl is seven or eight, beautiful smile and inquisitive eyes. This is Constance’s “sister”. A quick glance into the home reveals a small table and two chairs. A bed is hidden behind the door. No water in the house, except they tell me, when the rains come and the water floods the area; the bigger problem then are the snakes that get into the “house”. Much of the immediate family aren’t here, at least not anymore.
Two adults appear from the homes, one is Constance’s mother, yet neither one look old enough. One is a bit younger than I am and the other I guess is a young twenty something. They are the caretakers for the children. Neither of them work, the only jobs available involve an unthinkable lifestyle. Constance lives here in this small home with nine other family members.
An aunt, a father and her grandmother have all died recently. I didn’t ask what the cause of death was, but I could have taken a guess with 98% accuracy. Even if I did ask the answer would be pneumonia or TB, not the real causes. The family has no male influence helping provide any necessities. The food they eat comes from relief organizations providing handouts for two of the children, the family stretches it to provide for all, but that is all they are given.
If I were to tell you AIDS killed the family members, somehow our minds immediately wander to think of the immoral lifestyle they lived and how they probably contracted the disease. Our minds try to understand or comprehend how their sin caused this type of situation and thus resulted in their deaths. If I was to tell you AIDS caused the death of the family members would it shock you? Or do we simply justify it thinking that their sin has consequences? Unfortunately actions do have consequences, sometimes on those most innocent.
I ask Constance the names of the people living in the home. She has difficulty remembering and listing them. She gets to about eight and then has to start over. She has a brother and sister, I think. It’s hard to tell who really are brothers, sisters or cousins. Most all of the kids attend school, but studying is a problem when there’s not enough food to keep their minds from wandering and school uniforms cost money. December is coming, most people will be on holiday, the food may not be delivered during the next month or so due to a lack of drivers. Think about that as you sit down for Thanksgiving or Christmas dinner.
If I told you AIDS has nearly destroyed this family leaving eight children orphaned would it really matter? Who cares how it happened, what difference does it make? It’s a situation that continues to happen. Our responsibility isn’t to judge or point fingers. Our responsibility is to care for those who need help. Our responsibility is to cry out to God for His Justice and the saving knowledge of Him to be revealed. Our responsibility is not to try and understand or figure out what happened. Our responsibility is to share Christ with a hurting and victimized world.
As we return in the car to the feeding center for the orphan children, Constance, her younger sister and a neighbor boy take advantage of the free transport down the road. When we reach our destination I open the door, get out and turn around to sweep up the younger sister in my arms to help her out. Her weight and frame tell me quickly she most likely will not escape the disease that has claimed much of her family. I set her down but she doesn’t go far from my side. I see Constance heading towards the other children that have gathered for their meal of the day. Rice.
Whatever our understanding or stereotypes about AIDS and the pandemic that is absolutely destroying nations; there are millions of innocent victims who will someday be nothing more than a statistic in a book. Was it Constance’s fault she finds herself in a daily struggle to survive? Is Constance to blame for the immense pressure she may someday carry trying to provide for her younger siblings? Is it her fault that someday shortly her mother’s life may be taken as well? Is Constance to blame that she too carries the same death sentence?
thanks for reading...
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