Plus Belle La Vie

A More Beautiful Life

Where am I? Where are you, Father?

I flip a switch and the hot water turns on. Putting a bucket under the focet I begin to fill up the bucket. After a few minutes I turn the tap off and begin to take a small cup and pour the water over my head. There is no tub or shower head. Just me, a bucket, a focet, four tiled walls, a door, a roof, toiletries, and a cup. With just this I am far more blessed than many other people in India. 

I didn’t know what it would be like coming here. I, like most people, have seen pictures of seen movies. India is so much like that, but being here being able to physically touch these people and make eye contact with them is so different. The thing that has devastated me the most this far is not seeing the poverty but having the young children walk up and touch me as they beg. When you see something you can ignore it but once those people, children and adults, touch you it makes it so much more real. Today as we were eating lunch in a park  

  three children came up to us. I was cleaning up after my teammates and the children gathered around me pointing to their mouths. We had some food left over which we had planned to give away. These children touched my feet then their forehead over and over again. This hurt my heart because their was nothing I could do. After we gave them the food we got up to leave and one of the young boys had snatched our water bottle that was unopened. I said “No” and tried to take it back but he wouldn’t let it go so here I stood feeling awful as I ripped the tiny fingers from the bottle and walked away. It is real.

Then I walk around seeing temples for gods and goddess of all kinds. At night as it gets dark you can hear their worship. I think “Where is my Father? Where is he?” These people are hungry. They are hungry even more than what their bodies crave. They desire something more in this life and they turn to these other things. I stand here and just watched. What can I say to someone who shares no common tongue? 

I shed some tears tonight thinking about India, because I would prefer to just look at the pictures and to not think that this isn’t real. That people are like this.  I want to tell that young boy that he wouldn’t have to thirst any more, I have good news, something that would satisfy much more than what his body said he needed but I couldn’t. 

India is beautiful. We are right on the edge of the Himilayan Mountains  

 
it is just stunning views. The people are so beautiful as well. They may stop and stare at us, being white among brown faces, but I just gaze at the woman in their beautiful clothing, perfectly braided hair, and jewelry. Like I said they stare. The men stare especially. The people see us and stop what they are doing to watch us. The people are very generous to us and want to help us with just little things. They want pictures of us. But then there are some that do not like us because of our skin and will turn away from us if we ask questions. 

I have done so much since being here and now know what I have is great. I have a loving Father and so many great people in my life as well as possessions.

I have observed so much in just two days. 19 more.  

  

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1 Comment

  1. Cathy Petroff

    God bless you, Belle, as you follow your heart through the tears and pain. Our Father has blessed you with a servant heart and allowed you to feel the pain He feels when he sees His children suffer. Where is the Father? He is right there beside you, encouraging your every step, placing His hand in yours as you do His work… May your days be full of hope and fulfillment, may your heart be strong, and may your travels home be blessed with safety. You will be in my prayers…..
    Cathy Petroff (a friend of your Mom)

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