About a year and half ago I was chatting with a friend and she mentioned casually about donating money for educating poor children. Although I was always fascinated about doing something for poor and downtrodden, it never worked in reality ...YES...it was all just fascination! That chat inspired me to donate money for CRY…Well that was the first time ever I was spending money for someone whom I didn’t know before. I felt happy about it…A happiness which lasted for a few days…A feeling that was not really happiness but something else...I was probably proud that I contributed to the education of three kids somewhere for a year…
A few weeks later I was attending a malayalee get together. It was more a prayer session followed by small tea.
Place. Missionaries of charity.
I must say I was a big rooter of Mother Teresa. Like everyone I had joined the orkut community, which had 30000 fans of Mother Teresa. I was in the sea of people who admired the Mother...well nothing more than that! Mention in casual conversations that the Mother was a great person and the other person would agree to it…We ended up agreeing to what everyone agreed.
That day I met these nuns for the first time in real…They were different from the regular nuns I have seen before. Am not talking about the dress. I don’t exactly know how they were different, maybe the grace they radiated...One of the attendees in that small tea party mentioned that the nuns serve free food for poor in the weekends. Like anyone I said…
”Oh...wow...that is very noble of them”
Once I have quipped that obligatory comment, my job is done…isn’t!
Before I left the place that evening one of the nun’s suggested me to drop there sometime…and I said…
”YES…sure”
The kind of yes which says “ofcoz ...NO”
Few weeks passed by…usual sunday afternoon lunch and naps...waking up at 6 for a coffee…blissfully lazy.
But then I don’t know how it started. I think I got that thanks for the payment letter from CRY...That letter infact hurt me…I have paid for CRY and get a tax exemption and that is my noble contribution to helping others….wowow...Great job boy!
The next week I visited the MOC home, skipping my routine Sunday nap…
And I knocked the door. One sister opened the door and I hesitantly said…
”I have come here for help”
She just went inside and gave me an apron. I was told to serve ice tea to the people inside a big hall at the home…I expected to see poor people there…But the sudden sea of beggars…prostitutes…dirty smelly people...drunk...psychic freaks and an air as filthy as it could it be…it simply overwhelmed me.
That day I was told only to serve water. At end of the day when I left the place, the sisters said
“Thanks for coming”
I felt a 1000 thousands happier that day than any regular Sunday I could remember of.
Gradually over the last year I got to know all the nuns there…the mother superior who was an Indian...the sweet polish nun named Vimala...a German nun who always forgot I didn’t knew deutsch...a mallu volunteer uncle...a few other guys who later I came to know were people who were themselves living in the streets...
Working with them I have learned how to make iced tea.... how to serve food for 300 people in 4 hours…75 in each round…wash their plates, knives and forks, glasses in an orchestrated manner…and more importantly, to love the people who come there and not to feel pity for them…
I see there…
Really poor and hungry people…
People who lost all money boozing on the day before…
Ex-prostitutes coz they don’t have any income now…
People who lost their jobs for some crime they did and now in the streets…They speak to me in polished English which makes me wonder how could they possibly not get a new job.
Some who are regulars…
A mentally challenged guy who needs to be drenched in cold water always, since he thinks it is horrible hot even if its 10 degrees.
An apooppan with the most innocent smile I have ever seen…
A Turkish lady who comes with her two mentally challenged kids…
An ex-prostitute who loves cracking a joke or two. I remember a quip she made. Normally we provide the glasses during the meal, but she always carries her own cup…
That day in a very royal demeanor...”Hey baby…how do you do? This cup I bought from my last vacation in Mexico…” I loved her sense of humour and her apparent dig at herself.
A half legged man who would join us in passing on the plates while the serving happens…
Of the people who work with us…
The tireless sisters who sacrificed entire lifetimes for a cause.
Some kids who are actually made to work there by the police as corrective measures for some juvenile crimes…
A mallu uncle and few German volunteers
Some students who are pursuing studies in social work…
I have been going to this heaven on earth for about a year and I must say, It has given me immense joy to be part of it…I love how loving the people can be...The funny way few diners say thank you after the lunch to make us feel good…This Easter I loved how the sister made it extra special… The usually bare table changed to table clothes…colorful tissues...Easter eggs...apples…oranges...Easter bunnies…candles…arranged cutlery. Usually we go around serving the second round carrying huge vessels in a hurried manner to save time. This time we were pleasantly playing the roles of restaurant waiters and giving them the best possible classic service in our little ways…barbequed chickens…salads...desserts...and special Easter gifts...we even had a guy playing violin during the dinner. The scene and the feel is which I can’t describe in words...It felt like dining in the Ritz but with a million times more joy floating in the air…
That Easter that sister gave me one of the chocolate packs as Easter gift…I value that chocolate pack more than the Lindt chocolates which I had eaten earlier in the day…It takes 20 minutes for me to reach home. I don’t remember a Sunday has gone by without me smiling along the ride however tiring the day was… I have learned to love people unconditionally...to help people out of love and not obligation…to feel the true spirit of being a Christian.
A few weeks later I was attending a malayalee get together. It was more a prayer session followed by small tea.
Place. Missionaries of charity.
I must say I was a big rooter of Mother Teresa. Like everyone I had joined the orkut community, which had 30000 fans of Mother Teresa. I was in the sea of people who admired the Mother...well nothing more than that! Mention in casual conversations that the Mother was a great person and the other person would agree to it…We ended up agreeing to what everyone agreed.
That day I met these nuns for the first time in real…They were different from the regular nuns I have seen before. Am not talking about the dress. I don’t exactly know how they were different, maybe the grace they radiated...One of the attendees in that small tea party mentioned that the nuns serve free food for poor in the weekends. Like anyone I said…
”Oh...wow...that is very noble of them”
Once I have quipped that obligatory comment, my job is done…isn’t!
Before I left the place that evening one of the nun’s suggested me to drop there sometime…and I said…
”YES…sure”
The kind of yes which says “ofcoz ...NO”
Few weeks passed by…usual sunday afternoon lunch and naps...waking up at 6 for a coffee…blissfully lazy.
But then I don’t know how it started. I think I got that thanks for the payment letter from CRY...That letter infact hurt me…I have paid for CRY and get a tax exemption and that is my noble contribution to helping others….wowow...Great job boy!
The next week I visited the MOC home, skipping my routine Sunday nap…
And I knocked the door. One sister opened the door and I hesitantly said…
”I have come here for help”
She just went inside and gave me an apron. I was told to serve ice tea to the people inside a big hall at the home…I expected to see poor people there…But the sudden sea of beggars…prostitutes…dirty smelly people...drunk...psychic freaks and an air as filthy as it could it be…it simply overwhelmed me.
That day I was told only to serve water. At end of the day when I left the place, the sisters said
“Thanks for coming”
I felt a 1000 thousands happier that day than any regular Sunday I could remember of.
Gradually over the last year I got to know all the nuns there…the mother superior who was an Indian...the sweet polish nun named Vimala...a German nun who always forgot I didn’t knew deutsch...a mallu volunteer uncle...a few other guys who later I came to know were people who were themselves living in the streets...
Working with them I have learned how to make iced tea.... how to serve food for 300 people in 4 hours…75 in each round…wash their plates, knives and forks, glasses in an orchestrated manner…and more importantly, to love the people who come there and not to feel pity for them…
I see there…
Really poor and hungry people…
People who lost all money boozing on the day before…
Ex-prostitutes coz they don’t have any income now…
People who lost their jobs for some crime they did and now in the streets…They speak to me in polished English which makes me wonder how could they possibly not get a new job.
Some who are regulars…
A mentally challenged guy who needs to be drenched in cold water always, since he thinks it is horrible hot even if its 10 degrees.
An apooppan with the most innocent smile I have ever seen…
A Turkish lady who comes with her two mentally challenged kids…
An ex-prostitute who loves cracking a joke or two. I remember a quip she made. Normally we provide the glasses during the meal, but she always carries her own cup…
That day in a very royal demeanor...”Hey baby…how do you do? This cup I bought from my last vacation in Mexico…” I loved her sense of humour and her apparent dig at herself.
A half legged man who would join us in passing on the plates while the serving happens…
Of the people who work with us…
The tireless sisters who sacrificed entire lifetimes for a cause.
Some kids who are actually made to work there by the police as corrective measures for some juvenile crimes…
A mallu uncle and few German volunteers
Some students who are pursuing studies in social work…
I have been going to this heaven on earth for about a year and I must say, It has given me immense joy to be part of it…I love how loving the people can be...The funny way few diners say thank you after the lunch to make us feel good…This Easter I loved how the sister made it extra special… The usually bare table changed to table clothes…colorful tissues...Easter eggs...apples…oranges...Easter bunnies…candles…arranged cutlery. Usually we go around serving the second round carrying huge vessels in a hurried manner to save time. This time we were pleasantly playing the roles of restaurant waiters and giving them the best possible classic service in our little ways…barbequed chickens…salads...desserts...and special Easter gifts...we even had a guy playing violin during the dinner. The scene and the feel is which I can’t describe in words...It felt like dining in the Ritz but with a million times more joy floating in the air…
That Easter that sister gave me one of the chocolate packs as Easter gift…I value that chocolate pack more than the Lindt chocolates which I had eaten earlier in the day…It takes 20 minutes for me to reach home. I don’t remember a Sunday has gone by without me smiling along the ride however tiring the day was… I have learned to love people unconditionally...to help people out of love and not obligation…to feel the true spirit of being a Christian.
2 comments:
What a lovely post! Came here via Kerala Blog Roll. The Missionaries of Charity live on Charity! Unlike other Orders these ladies beg for their community work. So every penny you give them is like giving to God!
@silverine
Yes it is true..regular nuns come nowhere near the sacrifice and compassion that i have seen in MoC...although sometimes I sometimes cant understand the kind of pain they subject themselves too..like sleeping on bare floor in winter because they consider having a cot a luxury..I probably will never be like them..but it is simply inspirational to be working with them.
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