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Today India celebrated Holi, the festival of color that welcomes in springtime. Most businesses close for the holiday, leaving the streets enclosed like a winding battlefield of color. Children prowl on passerby with water guns while unsuspecting folks tarry down the lanes munching on popcorn. Here's a bit of what Holi looked like in Mussoorie this year:
"We're not like these people. We shouldn't pretend we are. The stories these people have to tell, we're not entitled to them. . ." "You say their stories, it is a gift they give you."
"A gift, yes."
-Khaled Hosseini, And the Mountains Echoed
These beautiful young girls have come from unbearably horrific pasts. Some were born into the brothels where their mothers worked, and others were given as sacrifices to the temples for men to use. They have been rescued from those hopeless situations and are being given a second chance at life.
As you can see, these girls are still very young. They are now living in an all girls home where they go to school, get medical care, and are shown the love and nurturing that they need to grow up feeling valued. They have joyful smiles and were so eager to love us when we went to visit them! They attacked us with hugs and a chorus of "Hello didi! how are you!?"
Each of them have a special story to tell, and it's our prayer that they grow up to become victors of their pasts. Getting to know these children has been such a gift, and I share their stories in hopes that they will touch the hearts of others in the way that they have touched ours at Ashraya Mission.
If you would like to learn more about these young ladies and how you can help them, read this blog post on Ashraya Mission's site. Their home is currently undergoing some final, but very important stages of construction and you have the opportunity to help their house become a home.
Tinker, Tailor, Soldier, Sailor,
Rich Man, Poor Man,
Ploughboy, Thief. . .
(excerpt from Cherry Stones by A. A, Milne)
Today I stopped in at the tailor's to drop off some material. I took a seat and watched him trace patterns of light blue chalk across the saffron polyester that will be sewn into a blouse by Wednesday.
"How long have you been working in this shop?" I asked In'aam over the snipping of his large metal scissors.
I learned that he has worked as a tailor for 37 years all across India- in Delhi, Bombay (Mumbai), and now Northern India where he was born and raised.
He admitted that he is disappointed in his children for not wanting to learn the art he prides himself in.
"What do your children want to do instead?"
In perfect English In'aam told me about his 5 children. His two daughters are both in school working towards their master's degrees- one is currently studying in Virginia. One of his sons works in IT, another in hotel management. His youngest son is a senior in high school and excelling in his studies.
"You're children sound very smart," I complimented.
With a mischievous grin In'aam said, "Yes, they are just smart."
I laughed as I tried to figure out what was meant by a response that sounded like the belittling of his children's accomplishments.
I turned my attention towards In'aam's coworker who was humming along in the corner. He spoke no English and hardly paused long enough from his work to let on that he did anything other than sewing.
Sparing a moment, he lifted his head to meet my gaze. Either annoyed or disinterested with our conversation, he returned to the more imperative matter at hand, searching through a plastic container of buttons.
I sensed it was time to leave the two to their work. So, I thanked the tailors before leaving and promised to return next week to pick up my blouse.
Wanna see what else I've been up to? Check out my other writings on the Ashraya Mission blog :)