Travel Reference
In-Depth Information
“Who helps all these children?” I asked him, in awe of how many orphans lived in this
run-down building in the center of town.
Barik stood back from the game as he answered the question, “Local people help. Many
people give the children rice, meat, bread, money . . .”
“But what about you?” I asked. “Why did you decide to help the children?”
“I help with many things for them—driving them, teaching school.”
Barik then changed the subject, clearly humbled by his own work. Instead, he asked if I
needed a place to stay. “We have apartment for the teachers,” he explained. “You can stay
with us.”
I thought again of Mother Teresa's quote as I watched Barik help the children put away
their used and broken toys. He put so much love into his giving, offering a committed care
to these children, who had little else. And I saw that despite what had happened to them,
despite how they came here, the children offered the greatest gift in return: their laughter.
As we ate our curry and rice dinner together, seated on the floor, as is Indian tradition,
their joy was infectious. They had food before them and friendship around them. They had
teachers who loved them—a family of strangers perhaps, but a family nonetheless. After
dinner the children lined up to drink water from a fountain. I had learned to always ask in
India about the water before drinking it, but this time I moved to get in line before Barik
stopped me, “No, water not safe.”
“For me?” I asked.
“Not safe for anyone.”
“But the children are drinking it,” I was confused as I watched a small boy lean forward
to sip from the faucet.
“No safe. Children get sick too.”
I found out that it was the only water they had. That even though the children regularly
got sick from drinking it, they had no choice.
I went to sleep that night, hearing the children cough in the other room. At one point, a
young girl got up and vomited in a trashcan. It quickly erased the memory of their laughter
just a few short hours before.
When I awoke, there was no hesitation in my mind. I was going to give back to this man
and the children under his care. If ever one gift could affect so many, I knew that the future
of these children might be altered by the smallest change in their current lives, just as Barik
had already done.
