Did you ever sing Gospel songs with your Hindu friends?
I was sitting in the home of my Nepali friends, helping little Bimla with her homework. She was reading a funny story, stumbling through the difficult words, giggling as she understood what those words meant. Indira, ever quiet and not one to disturb me, was standing beside me with her composition book, waiting.
I had to read her lovely cover - splattered with crayoned designs, white tape and stickers - two times, until I deciphered it. It said "Jesus loves me."
I thought surely she copied it from some book, some pamphlet that she couldn't read in English.
But no, she understood. She scrunched up her mouth, looking at me like I was crazy. "Jesus love me! See?" she said, pointing with her finger to the words. "Jesus-love-me. Ok?"
And she wanted me to sing a song with her that she had copied into her notebook. Sure thing. I love singing - especially with children!
But the song she wanted to sing was a surprise to me: "You are my all in all."
You have no idea how wonderful it is to worship God in a home where there is very little Light. The two little girls and I sang the whole song all the way through ... and it was wonderful. They were thrilled to sing with their crazy American tutor (me), and I was overjoyed to share that special moment with them.
It's things like that - sharing a bowl of spicy noodles, learning to make Nepali tea, singing a simple song together, killing roaches in their kitchen (yes, I've done it) - that build relationships that will go way beyond words. It goes way beyond the little we are able to communicate.
I get dirty. I get frustrated with them when they've filled the house with pesticide spray and don't understand that they can't stay inside till it airs out. We've dealt with lice, roaches, unidentifiable creepy-crawlies that somehow made it over from Nepal in luggage. I've made countless stupid blunders because I didn't understand their culture, their language, their way of life. But all of that fades when I realize that I'm more to them than a volunteer.
I'm a friend. Somebody they love and trust. Even though I'm crazy enough to want to help them work in their garden, or make jhalmuri after class time. They love me.
And that's priceless.
I was sitting in the home of my Nepali friends, helping little Bimla with her homework. She was reading a funny story, stumbling through the difficult words, giggling as she understood what those words meant. Indira, ever quiet and not one to disturb me, was standing beside me with her composition book, waiting.
I had to read her lovely cover - splattered with crayoned designs, white tape and stickers - two times, until I deciphered it. It said "Jesus loves me."
I thought surely she copied it from some book, some pamphlet that she couldn't read in English.
But no, she understood. She scrunched up her mouth, looking at me like I was crazy. "Jesus love me! See?" she said, pointing with her finger to the words. "Jesus-love-me. Ok?"
And she wanted me to sing a song with her that she had copied into her notebook. Sure thing. I love singing - especially with children!
But the song she wanted to sing was a surprise to me: "You are my all in all."
You have no idea how wonderful it is to worship God in a home where there is very little Light. The two little girls and I sang the whole song all the way through ... and it was wonderful. They were thrilled to sing with their crazy American tutor (me), and I was overjoyed to share that special moment with them.
It's things like that - sharing a bowl of spicy noodles, learning to make Nepali tea, singing a simple song together, killing roaches in their kitchen (yes, I've done it) - that build relationships that will go way beyond words. It goes way beyond the little we are able to communicate.
I get dirty. I get frustrated with them when they've filled the house with pesticide spray and don't understand that they can't stay inside till it airs out. We've dealt with lice, roaches, unidentifiable creepy-crawlies that somehow made it over from Nepal in luggage. I've made countless stupid blunders because I didn't understand their culture, their language, their way of life. But all of that fades when I realize that I'm more to them than a volunteer.
I'm a friend. Somebody they love and trust. Even though I'm crazy enough to want to help them work in their garden, or make jhalmuri after class time. They love me.
And that's priceless.
No comments:
Post a Comment