We got up and went to breakfast. When I saw Inder, he was noticeably not awake yet. I asked him what happened and he told me that he was up late writing a song. I didn't think much of it. The rest of the boys, thinking they were really smart, had started an hourly countdown for us for 7:00 that night, when we were supposed to leave. I told them to knock it off. I wanted to enjoy my last day with them. Kartik said, "Then you'll be crying! We'll have to get you a bucket for your tears! You'll have to take it with you for the plane!"
Thanks again, Kartik.
I actually got up and left the table at this point. I was going to have to get a hold of myself, because the last thing I needed was to be all upset about leaving before I actually left. I was going to have to deal with this by myself later. I sat down at another table and Sunil joined me. He watched me starting to pull myself together before I completely came apart, and probably to distract me, he started singing.
For the record, I don't remember what he sang. It was a worship song I knew, but I can't remember what it was because a few notes in, I got goosebumps despite the oppressive humidity. This kid could sing. His voice is a strong and pure-toned tenor. (He would make it on the cast of any local theater production done in my area. I can't even make it on those casts, and I take voice lessons.) I didn't see that one coming. I kind of just stared at him. When he realized that I wasn't joining in (or possibly because I was staring at him), he gave me a quizzical look. I just said, "Wow. You can really sing."
When we returned back to our dorm, we found that we finally got our saris back from the tailor! I pulled out the one I had gotten in London, and with the help of some of the girls, got it on for the first time.
This thing was amazing. I felt like an Indian princess. I knew I would be wearing these things from that point on. I was going home to little redneck Waynesboro, VA and I was going to wear these everywhere. I was going to wear them to church, out to eat, and just for kicks, into Wal-Mart. I pulled a flower off the tree and headed to the service.
When I got there, they had just started with the worship songs. I tired to sneak in the back so the guys wouldn't notice me walking in late (saris, I discovered, are labor intensive and time consuming to get on.) I looked up and realized that everyone I would have tried to sneak in for were now looking right at me: they were all in the band. So much for hiding.
I hadn't realized it, but all the guys I was hanging out with all week were in the worship band, with Sunil as their leader. Seeing them up front playing songs we sing in my church was really something amazing. They sang several songs I knew, including Mighty to Save. Sunil, as it turns out, is a gifted worship leader. There was a sincerity and attentiveness to the way he led and the songs he picked. He left space in the songs for worship. When they sang "Yes, Yes, Lord" I jumped in with the younger girls in the second row and did the motions with them. Once again, the youth leader in me came out. The girls danced around me. I tried not to trip over my sari as they laughed with me and called me "sister".
I hope I never stop doing stupid motions, playing ridiculous games, getting myself completely dirty and humiliating myself in creative ways in the name of creating memories for and showing my great love to teenagers.
At some point, I looked at the floor. It was clean. At breakfast, the floor had still been covered with the dusty remnants of the ever-expanding murals of creativity from the day before. They had dissolved into footprints from people running all over them the previous night. Now, there was no trace of them. I really felt bad for whoever had to clean that, because it was my mess to clean. I figured that I would ask around and see who had to put in that much work between breakfast and the service.
When we went up to sing our songs, they handed me a microphone while the rest of the team clustered around 2 more. Melvin had almost lost his voice by this point. I decided that I was just going to have to sing loud and hope for the best. I had no idea how we sounded, but I could hear myself and I sounded on pitch. The kids really liked it though, and that's what matters.
Casey gave the message. She read the story where Jesus cast the demons out of a man and the nearby village asked Jesus to leave. She talked about how Jesus wasn't always accepted by everyone and told the kids that when they went back to their villages, they may not be accepted right away but to love people anyway. While she was speaking, I realized that we were creating missionaries. The cycle was continuing. The idea gave me goosebumps. I still pray for these kids, their families and their future ministries every day.
After the message, our team was asked to come up so they could pray for us. We were given scarves and bags that the girls had made. Balaji and Inder came up with some of the guys, Balaji armed with a guitar. Balaji announced that they had written us a song. "Oh, that's what Inder meant this morning," I thought. He stayed up all night writing us a song! I was going to have to try really hard not to cry.
Balaji said, "You are my familia!" To make it even more endearing, he pronounced familia like "family-a" I stared at the ceiling, willing the tears to stay in my eyes and not go falling down my face. Some of the other members of my team didn't even try to stop them. The kid who didn't know who his family was or even if they were alive had just told us that we are his family.
God told me, "Look around. This is why you are here." I looked into the faces of the girls and guys that I had spent the week getting to know and love. I was their family, even through they had been taken from theirs. I was their family, even if they had been rejected and left by their own.
I am their sister.
These are my kids. God gave me the ability to love them in a way that full, huge and unashamed, and completely outside my ability to do on my own.
Luckily for us, Balaji had not written us a sad song. We would have needed buckets if he had.
Thank you for loving us
Thank you for dancing with us
Thank you for serving us
Thank you for eating with us
We All Are Familia
We all pray for you
God’s will be help you
Wherever you go God is with you!
He started singing different words in the verses. I wasn't able to catch all of them, but I did hear (and Inder later confirmed for me) "Lady playing soccer, getting dirty, makes me smile!"
I love Love LOVE that God made me a youth leader with a crazy, unafraid heart.
After the service, I took pictures of anyone and everyone. I wanted a picture of my awesome sari, so Sunil followed me over to the stone wall and got a few awesome pictures, showing the henna on my arm.
I found out who had cleaned the floor: Inder and the boys had. Inder was complaining, saying, "what did they DO?! It was so messy!" I apologized and showed him the pictures. "Too messy, " he said. I told him I thought I would have to clean it myself. He said, "NO! I'm glad I cleaned it so you didn't have to!" I gave him a huge hug and thanked him. I then went up to my room to change for soccer.
When I got to the field, the boys hadn't started playing yet. Sunil ran up and stood next to me on the end of the field. Alok gave me the update on the countdown: 5 hours. I tried to ignore him. Sunil made some off-hand comment about not being around when I left. I slowly turned to look at him and said, "What was that?" There must have been a look of death on my face, because he jumped slightly. Casey appeared behind us and said, "Yeah, that's right. He won't be around when we leave. He'll be back in his room. He did that when the last team left." He kind of laughed a little and looked sheepish.
I just stared at him for a minute, trying to determine if he was serious. The hurt must have registered on my face, because when he looked back at me, he completely lost the smile. I started to grapple with this one: if he wasn't around to say goodbye, it would feel worse than if he told me that he wanted me to leave. It would feel like he was saying he didn't care. I knew that I am an emotionally strong person and I can take a lot, but that . . . I would not be able to simply take that one. That one would really, really hurt. I looked him in the eye and said, "Do NOT do that to me, Sunil. That would really hurt me if you did." He was still looking me in the eye, but I could see that he was thinking about how hard that was going to be for him. I said, "If you do that, I will find you. I don't care if I have to go wandering through the jungle, I will find you." His smile came back, just a little. He knew I was serious. I was feeling a little selfish, but this was one of those things that if I didn't speak up and tell him how I felt, I would be packing around that pain for a while. It was really important to me.
I had been hoping that soccer would be a great distraction. For a while, it was. Then I started having trouble. This was more than just feeling sad that I was leaving. I was feeling the cloak . . . the oppressive, constrictive, suffocating cloak that I had worn for 3 months before I got to Ashagram, the one I lost before my feet even hit the ground . . . it was creeping up again. I had to stop this one. I made some excuse about needing tea to the guys and walked off the field. If the guys noticed that I wasn't really ok, they didn't let on. My guess was that they figured that I needed to go off and pull myself together. I headed up toward the dining hall and waited for the rest of my team to get there. I sipped at my chai, but I was already drowning. I couldn't follow the conversation. I felt like I was sliding back into everything that bound me before. The idea was heartbreaking. Then I decided:
I did not have to. I wouldn't live like that again.
I left the table and walked down the path away from all the buildings. I barely noticed that I was barefoot without an umbrella. I walked until I reached the edge of the property in the grass and bushes. I finally let it out. I was terrified that I would have this amazing experience and not take any of what I learned and how I grew back with me. I did NOT want to go back to my little life at Target, playing my little games with my youth group kids, hoping for something better. Ashagram had made me thankful for everything. I felt alive and beautiful. I couldn't let this oppressive darkness steal all of what I had gained. I told God I refused to pick up the cloak again and I told whatever was trying to pull me back into the darkness I had been freed from to shut up and go away. I prayed for God to seal everything I had learned and gained in my heart so I would always have it. I wanted India to leave its beautiful mark on me.
Only then did it occur to me that I was leaving. That crashed over me, and I let myself feel it. I just sat in the bushes and prayed for strength. I was going to need a super amount of strength and grace to say goodbye to these kids and not sit sobbing in the middle of the dining room floor. I prayed for perspective. I prayed that I wouldn't concentrate on the fact that it was so sad that I was leaving. I prayed that I would be able to demonstrate more love to my kids. I prayed I would be able to leave them with something wonderful that would encourage them. I wanted to leave them with something they would remember and cherish. I wanted to say goodbye well.
Suddenly, my heart was too full to feel sad. I felt like the love I had felt from God and the kids was sealed in, and I would carry that with me instead of sadness and instead of the cloak. I stood up, looked around, and decided that I was going to do this. I was going to tell them I loved them and that I would see them again, here on earth or in heaven. I walked back down to the dining hall, the last of my tears being washed away by the warm rain.
When I got there, Kartik was playing on the keyboard. He told me that he was going to break my legs. I said, "Oh really? And just why are you going to do that?" He responded, "If I break your legs, then you can't leave." I realized this was the best I was going to get out of Kartik. I gave him a huge hug and said that I like my legs, and that I would miss him. He told me he was going to kidnap me instead. I told him I liked that idea better.
When I made my way back down to the soccer lake, Balaji was standing under the tree. He pulled over a chair and told me to sit. I smiled at this wonderful and loving guy that God had blessed all of us with. One of the guys from my soccer team knelt next to me said, "You're leaving in 3 hours!" I looked him in the eye and said, "Yeah, I know. But it's gonna be ok." I turned my attention to the game.
A few minutes later, Balaji stepped in front of me. He extended his hand toward me and jokingly (I think . . .) said, "Will you marry me?" I laughed and said, "Sure!" He smiled at me, but I made a point not to pick up his hand.
When it got to be 5:30, I got up to go get cleaned up and go to our early dinner. I heard Sunil calling me from across the soccer field. He left the game and ran over to me. "Where are you going?" he asked. I told him that I was going to go get cleaned up and that I was coming back down for dinner in a few minutes. I told him that I'd see him there and then he could go hide. He picked up my hand again. I thought he was going to say something, but he turned away from me. This was clearly not going to be easy for him. I was aware of the fact that he was holding my hand in front of the 30 guys on the field, but he didn't seem to care and neither did I. "I'll be back soon." I told him, and pulled myself away.
Up in my room, I made a symbolic gesture: I put on my good pair of skinny jeans. While it is perfectly acceptable to wear jeans (in fact, most of the Indian girls did), I never did because I loved wearing skirts and my Indian clothing. I hadn't worn anything strictly 'Western" in India yet. This was my way of starting to return. I knew that I would need to leave this oasis, where I was loved and cherished for exactly who I was, not for what I could do or how I looked like I was back home. This was my way of starting to bring the oasis home.
When I walked back past the soccer field, I noticed that they were still playing, but Sunil had left. Casey made some comment about him vanishing and that we probably wouldn't see him again. I was giving the poor guy the benefit of the doubt. I had faith in him.
Sure enough, my faith was not unfounded. He had left early to take a shower and get cleaned up. The rest of the guys were walking off the field and heading to their houses and he was coming up the path toward the dining hall. I came around the wall to the dining hall to give him a hug and essentially give him a free pass on the whole situation. He hugged me, but then to my surprise, followed me back around. He pulled up a chair and sat next to me at the end of the table.
My hair was still soaking wet from when I had walked in the rain earlier. He picked up a handful of it and began rubbing his hands together on it to try and dry it. I saw some of the members of my team raise their eyebrows at this one. I didn't stop him though, and a few more guys came along and did the same thing with portions of my hair. These boys were showing me love to the last moment, and I was very thankful for them.
I don't think I ate more than 5 bites. Alok showed up and yelled, "TE AMO, ERIN!" from across the dining hall. I jumped up, ran over and gave him a huge hug, yelling, "TE AMO, ALOK!" The smaller boys were packing around us again, giving us hugs around our waists. Santosh handed me a card that was tied closed with a piece of string. He told me to read it on the plane. It had a beautiful flower vine on it that had taken him some time to draw. I went to go put it in my bag when I realized: I had brought my journal with me.
Alok was closest to me, so he got it first. He wrote for a few lines and handed it back to me. I then saw Sunil. I handed him my journal and said, "Would you like to write something?" He took it from me with a look of great relief. I was thankful that I had found a way to make this easier for him. He took it to the edge of the dining hall far away from everybody else and started writing. At that point, Inder walked up to me and gave me a hug. I said goodbye to him and told him how much I loved being with him. Balaji came through a few minutes later and I got a few pictures with him. I gave him a hug and told him he would always be my brother. Several of the guys asked to pray for me. They took my hands and prayed for "my beautiful sister, that she would be blessed and would be back soon."
At about this point, I realized that Casey wasn't there anymore. Neither was Trisha. In fact, most of the team was either leaving or had already left. I glanced around and found Sunil, still sitting on the ledge, writing in my journal. He had been writing for a good 20 minutes, and I wasn't about to take it away from him. I waited a few more minutes and started walking in his direction.
Everyone else in the room either hadn't noticed me walk over there, or had just decided to give us space. I stood in front of him, amazed that he was still there. I hadn't expected him to stick around this long. He signed his name and handed me my journal back. I tired to look him in the eye, but he dodged that and he pulled me into a hug. He held me for a second, but then tried to break away. He ended up burying his face in my hair that was over my shoulder. I actually felt the prayer for strength and love I prayed earlier kick in, and I really needed it. When he did that, I was approximately 2 seconds from crumpling into tears on him and making the situation so. much. worse. God spared us both.
He pulled himself away, but said nothing. I don't think he was able to. He was trying to hide his face because he was an absolute mess, but he still wanted to say goodbye. He started to try to take off, but either he still had my arm or I was still holding on to him. It was probably both, because I moved right along with him. I walked next to him, my arm around him, my head on his shoulder. I told him it was going to be ok. I told him I would see him again, that this was not the end. I told him that I would either be back to see him on this earth, or I would see him in heaven.
At this point, we had made it back to the group. The rest of the guys all pulled me in and gave me a huge hug. I looked around and saw that I was the last one from my team still in the dining hall. I was going to have to run to catch up to the rest of them. I quickly pulled on my poncho. Sunil hadn't left. He was still right next to me, snapping up the sides of my poncho. I was amazed, and so thankful that he stayed. I grabbed everything, stuffed it in my bag and ran over to get my flip flops at the edge of the dining hall.
I took a few steps out into the rain and turned around. There was Santosh, Kartik, Inder, a whole lot of the smaller boys and Sunil. Still there, till the very end. I blew them all a kiss, which Sunil returned. I gave them all a huge smile and started laughing. I loved these boys so much! I turned and ran down the dirt path, hearing them yell their goodbyes. The last thing I heard: Kartik yelling, "You forgot your bucket!"
Thanks a lot, Kartik. As it turns out, I didn't need it.
I ran down the path and eventually caught up to our group. Most of the team was an absolute mess. I had already done my difficult goodbyes and was simply grabbing my things. I wondered where all the girls were. I didn't need to worry. When I pulled my bag around the corner and toward the front door, there they all were. Two cars were parked in the courtyard, ready to take us to the airport. The girls were standing everywhere, getting soaked by the rain, waiting to say goodbye. I hugged them all and told them that I would see them again.
When we finally did pull away, the team was silent. Jill wrote "bye" on the back window and drew a heart around it. When we made the turn onto the main road inside Ashagram, we saw that Inder and the younger guys had come out that far to wave goodbye and see us off. I felt huge portions of my heart being pulled . . . I was leaving my heart with these guys. But strangely, even though I was leaving parts of it there, it was still full and whole.
When we got to our gate at the airport, I couldn't stand it anymore. I pulled out my journal. I came across Alok's message first: To my dear friend Erin, I had a good time with you and getting to know you. You blessed me with your laugh. I specially thank you for teaching us Spanish. Te Amo Erin
I then dug out Santosh's card. He thanked me for being there and loving them. He told me that I was very special to everyone, and that they would miss me very much.
I turned the page in my journal and found that Sunil had written me a full page. He said it was wonderful spending time with me and talking with me. He would be praying for me and our team. He loved the fact that I was in his life now, and that he would never forget God's love that showed through me and the team. He told me that he liked my smile and that he really liked my long hair. He said, "keep your faith in Jesus, he will provide for your needs. Pray to God for your life partner also. Always smile! :) I love you so much again."
My heart has expanded to contain the sheer amount of flowing water that poured into my parched spirit. I walked around feeling like a fragmented mess for years. My heart still resides in different places all over, but what I have in me is healed and able to love again.
I did not know.
I had no idea what to expect when I went on this trip, but I know it didn't involve falling in love with over one hundred amazing Indian kids. I will always remember them: Alok, Kartik, Inder, Balaji, Nasreen and probably most of all, Sunil. I understand why Casey was almost jumping out of her skin to get back to Ashagram. If I ever make it back, (and I pray to God that I will) I will be freaking out the entire drive. I will be annoying my entire team until my feet hit the red dirt again.
The worship songs that seemed old and tired will take on new life again every time I hear them: I will remember the voices of Inder, Balaji and Sunil singing them. It will be something I will treasure and laugh about as I raise my hands. I will remember the love of my boys and the love that God gave to and through all of us.
What's truly amazing about all of these kids is the heartbreaking fact that these are not ordinary kids. The girls were in the brothels. The boys were on the streets. The stories they tell you don't seem possible, even to me now. How could the beautiful, graceful girl in front of you, who shines with the love of God, possibly have been abused in such a horrific and awful way? How could this tenderhearted, strong and protective young man, who has the capacity to love so deeply and sincerely, possibly have been out on the streets, strung out on drugs and begging?
Dear Jesus, this doesn't seem possible, but here it is. In one hundred different cases, here it is. They are whole. They are vibrant. They have such a love that I can only hope to attain the ability to give in the course of my lifetime. And they all loved me. This is a miracle, one hundred times over.
It always costs something to leave your heart places. You long to go back to where you left it and the people you left it with. Having a fragmented heart is awful. You feel it every day. But I will gladly take it over a heart that doesn't know the love of these kids. They have been burned with the fire of God and loved me with such a deep and sincere love that I can only hope they felt in return.
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| Reminders |
I will gladly leave a piece of my heart in this land where the warm rain drips from the palm fronds and the kids share the very heartbeat of God.
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