Julie prayed each morning for the orphans’ salvation and adoption. “Lord, I can see how they would all get saved, but I don’t have the faith for how they can all get adopted.”
Remember what I said? This is My project; you are merely My mouth and feet. You couldn’t imagine that I had the power to make berries appear or get your purse back.
Julie laughed in embarrassment, “Oh, yeah; I’d already forgotten about that. Thanks, but can You do it again with the wallet?”
Good try, Julie, but I have unlimited ways to provide for My orphans.
After Julie’s prayer time each morning, she led the children in prayer for Bhanu and Kumar and taught a Bible story.
The afternoon was usually filled with games. With Ravi’s help, Julie and the children played hide ’n’ seek, which it turns out they already knew by another name, kanha muche attha. The girls were reluctant to leave Julie, but she promised she’d be there all day since she didn’t have to leave to feed Ravi. And she’d stay the night.
Julie taught them London Bridge. When a child was caught between two people and “shaken up with salt and pepper,” everyone laughed. Julie was so caught up in the games, she was able to forget about her worries. She laughed and enjoyed the orphans as much as they were enjoying her.
“Thank You, Lord, the mood has sure changed around here.” Unbeknownst to Julie, that’s what the orphans were thinking about her. Her reputation as a purse-waving maniac was fading a little more each day.
Over the next few days Julie spoke with several of the children as Ravi translated. She was able to find out how some had come to call this dump “home.” Some were full of shame, refusing to talk or hanging their heads when they did.
Shoba began, “When my mother died, my grandmother took me in. We lived in a shack with holes in the roof. My grandmother was very old and lay on her mat all day. We ate only lentils and were both tired.” She spoke in a monotone voice, staring, but not focusing. “One day I took her food and she was dead. I left and never went back.”
Julie rubbed her hand over Shoba’s skinny arm. Found her grandmother dead? No one to help? Only lentils? No wonder she looks like a concentration camp survivor. Jesus, help Shoba. These children have lived a lifetime of pain in childhood. What will the rest of their lives be like?
“Praveen, what happened?”
“My parents died while I was a baby, and my aunt didn’t want me. She yelled and beat me. One day she took me to my uncle’s and left me. He beat me more and said I was a ‘good-for-nothing’ boy. At school, my teacher made fun of me because I could not read. I wanted to get away from everyone. When I turned eight, I left for school one morning and just walked and walked.”
Julie was shocked. I can’t imagine what he’s endured. Has he ever had one day when someone loved him well? She patted him on the shoulder, groping for something to say.
“I’m sorry, Praveen. I really am. I’m glad you came here, and now you have friends who care for you. And me. I’m your friend, too.” Wanting to take some of the pressure off Praveen she turned to Wilson.
He fiddled with a knot on his walking stick, then spoke, “I am eight years old. I grew up in an orphanage. The kids teased me about my big ears. When the teachers went to sleep, the other boys would hit me, but never on my arms or legs where bruises would show. Every night was terror; I was very afraid. I wanted to run away, but had no place to go.
“One day the police came and made everyone move out to tear down the orphanage to build a road. I left with my friend Dayasagar. We slept on the streets. He got very sick, and sicker; then he died. I left his body under the bridge where we slept, and I ran and ran for many days. Then I found here with other children, and I stayed.” He held out the walking stick for Julie’s closer inspection. “This belonged to my friend, Dayasagar.”
To Julie each story seemed more heart-wrenching than the last. Jesus, Jesus, Jesus. I’m beginning to see why You want to help these children. Wilson looked into Julie’s eyes, then glanced toward the ground. Julie put her arm around his waist and pulled him close. Surprisingly, he let her. Jesus, this rambunctious, fearless child is such a wounded little soul.
“It’s a really nice walking stick, Wilson.” She ran her hand over the smooth, honey-colored wood. “A really nice one….” Her voice cracked, she buried her face in the crook of an elbow, and fought tears. Her hand gripped the walking stick until her arm shook. His friend is dead, and all he has is this dump. This stinking, filthy dump every day and every night. And he’s just a little boy, and his best friend is dead. Tears of compassion flowed.
For several minutes the children stared at Julie and then at each other, as if asking, “What can we do to help?” Madhu pulled an origami butterfly from his pocket and placed it on her lap. Nilaya gently touched Julie’s arm. When Julie saw who it was, a new wave of tears overtook her. All the tissues in her purse were used, and more were needed.
Sapna gently patted Julie’s knee. She turned to Ravi to translate.
“Sapna says for you not to cry. We are a family, and we take care of each other. You are in our family now. We will help you to not be sad.”
Julie doubled over sobbing. Each show of affection gripped her and at the same time convicted her.
How can they be so mistreated and show such kindness? How can they be so sweet when I’ve been so unsympathetic?
The sobbing continued. Praveen fished a used tissue out of his pocket and offered it to Julie. Even this unsanitary gesture emotionally disabled her.
Oh, Jesus, I repent of my terrible attitude. Please forgive me for despising these neglected ones. Lord, change me, please.
Her sobbing eventually tapered to weeping, then to an occasional whimper. She had no choice, but to wipe her nose and eyes on the sleeve of her dress as she wrestled her emotions for control.
After a few minutes, Chavvi, the eight-year-old in a pink dress, shared in great detail about her family and the happy times.
“I had three brothers and two sisters. My dad worked a job, and we were happy.” Her face scrunched in pain and she wept. Julie patted her arm with one hand and rubbed her back with the other. After a few minutes, Chavvi sobbed out the rest of the story.
“I was with my family at a religious festival. There were many people. I stopped to look at flowers, and when I looked up, I couldn’t find my family. I screamed and yelled. I looked for days.” She sobbed even harder. “They didn’t want me anymore.”
“Oh, sweetie.” Julie pulled her on her lap and rocked her. “Do you know your address?”
Chavvi shook her head.
We lived by a big park; it had a fountain.”
“What’s your last name?”
“Reddy.”
Maybe, thought Julie, that will help. She hugged her tightly and sang, “Jesus loves me, this I know; for the Bible tells me so. Little ones to Him belong; they are weak and He is strong.” After hearing it several times, the children hummed the melody and stumbled over the words. Julie knew that something was taking place, but she didn’t know what. “Lord, thank You for being with us.”
Mahipal volunteered, “I was playing in front of the store where my mother shopped. A man grabbed me and threw me in a car. There were many children kept in one large room. The men sent us to beg, then beat us every night. They said they would kill us if we left. One night, I ran and ran. I found here and stayed. My name is Mahipal Bharat, and I lived at house number 8 opposite to the Eshwara temple, in Geddalahalli 11.”
You have your address? Why didn’t you go home?”
“I could not find home. No one helped me. I had no money. I had to hide during the day so I would not be killed.”
Julie jumped up, dragging the child to his feet.
“Ravi, Mahipal and I are going to take a taxi. Tell everyone they must pray to Jesus to help us get him back home. I need money for the fare. Tell them to pray now.”
She and Mahipal ran to the street to hail an auto rickshaw. When she looked back, all the children were in a circle with their heads bowed. When the taxi arrived, Mahipal gave the address. The driver nodded and held up ten fingers.
“Ten minutes, ten miles, ten kilometers, ten rupees? Yes, Lord.” The taxi moved slowly with the traffic. They finally transitioned to the country with green fields on both sides and sheep grazing. There were cows, monkeys, dogs, and cats wandering freely.
At first Julie felt relaxed, but then the driver picked up speed. Driving on the left side of the road caused enough anxiety, but the driver passed on hills and at other times took to the shoulder to make way for drivers headed straight toward them in their lane. Julie was kicking herself for not bringing Ravi to translate.
“Slow down, slow down,” she shrieked. She tapped his shoulder. He had no intention of slowing down. The more quickly he finished this run, the sooner he could get another one. Large dump trucks painted in bright colors barreled down the road. “O Jesus, help us, help us,” she squealed as her driver passed on a blind curve and narrowly missed a minivan.
She put her arm around Mahipal and wrote the word Jesus on his palm, then placed his hand on his chest. She held him close and sang over him, then prayed for him to fulfill his destiny.
The driver slowed as he came to a little town. Mahipal’s face lit up. He sat up straight and pointed to various houses and little shops and chattered nonstop.
When the driver stopped in front of a small house with bougainvillea growing up a trellis, Mahipal let out a shriek and ran toward the door, opened it, and disappeared inside. Julie stepped out of the auto rickshaw and motioned for the drive to stay.
Screaming, laughter, and shouts of joy spilled from the house. She followed the sound and gazed in the doorway. Tears spilled over her cheeks as she drank in the sight—people with their arms all flung around each other, making a melody of laughter, tears, and sweetness.
Looks like mom, two younger sisters, and an older one.
Eventually Mahipal saw Julie and squealed. He grabbed his mother’s hand and pulled her toward Julie, talking all the way. The mother dropped to her knees and flung her arms around Julie’s waist, wailing. Julie stood rather uncomfortably for 30 long seconds until she was released. The sobbing mother pulled a gold bracelet from her wrist and offered it to Julie.
“I couldn’t, no, but thank you. It was my pleasure.” She slid the bangle back on the woman’s wrist. The mother led her to the couch and disappeared into the next room. She returned with a rusted metal container, emptied it on to the couch and scraped coins and paper money toward Julie.
Taxi fare! Thank you, Lord. She grabbed a few coins, and smiled. “Dhanivadha.” The woman continued to scoop the pile toward Julie, who once again motioned no with her hands.
Julie stood up and hugged and kissed Mahipal as she slowly rocked him from side to side.
“Bless you, Mahipal. Don’t forget Jesus really loves you. Amen.” She pointed to the word written on his hand.
“Ah-meen,” he replied.
Julie, Mahipal will be My humble servant. He will have the grace to embrace wounded, hurting people whom no one else believes in.
His life verse is: “He has sent me to bind up the brokenhearted, to proclaim freedom for the captives and release from darkness for the prisoners….to comfort all who mourn….to bestow on them a crown of beauty instead of ashes, the oil of gladness instead of mourning, and a garment of praise instead of a spirit of despair.”1
“Thank You, Lord. You have an incredible destiny for Mahipal!”
His mother grabbed Julie’s arms and stared deeply into her eyes. The tears in the eyes of two mothers from halfway around the world connected without words. They both smiled and hugged, and Julie almost floated back to the taxi.
“Thank You, Lord. I’m overwhelmed. Mahipal is going to grow up and serve You. Thank You, thank You, thank You for allowing me to participate in this amazing journey. I am emotionally exhausted, but totally exhilarated if that’s possible.”
Thank you for being obedient, Julie. I’m glad you didn’t leave when you had the chance.
Julie smiled, leaned back in the seat, and let her hair fly in the wind. One down, and 11 to go.
When Julie returned, it was getting close to dinnertime.
“Ravi, I need you to help with the food, but pick another boy to help us too.” Ravi looked around, “I choose Praveen.” Ravi explained to Praveen that he’d help pick berries and then go to the market. In his usual show of excitement, Praveen jumped up and clapped. The three headed for the bushes. As Praveen walked, he constantly looked around.
“Ravi,” said Julie, “ask Praveen what he’s looking for.”
“He says he’s looking for bad guys and criminals. He wants to be a detective and thinks he’s going to solve a big crime,” said Ravi.
They picked berries together, and Praveen was full of questions all about Julie and her life and crime in the United States.
He’s a little sponge for information, thought Julie.
With the sack of berries in her arms, she spoke to Ravi as they walked, “Ask Praveen what his favorite food is.” Ravi asked Praveen, and with a sly look replied, “He says bananas.” At first Julie accepted this; then an enlightened smile spread across her face.
“Maybe he didn’t understand, Ravi. Ask him again, please.”
“Tandoori chicken.”
“I have a little change left from taxi fare.”
Ravi spotted the wheeled cart and ran ahead. When Julie ordered one piece, Ravi began to pout. As Praveen ate, Ravi crossed his arms and trailed behind.
“Ravi,” said Julie, “can you be happy for Praveen when he gets something special?” Ravi looked at the street frowning.
“He’s eating special chicken, his favorite. Can you be glad for him?” Ravi still didn’t look convinced. Julie laid her hand on his shoulder, “Hey mister monkey, remember how happy you were when you had your bananas? That’s how happy Praveen is today. We should be happy for him, too!”
Ravi shook his head and forced a smile.
They bought sandwiches, fruit, and juice. Julie used the toilet, and she was very grateful. “Little things mean a lot. I will not forget Your blessings, Lord.”
The two boys carried the food through the crowds. When they arrived at the dump, Sashi was getting the girls in a circle, and to Julie’s great surprise and pleasure, Wilson was helping the boys.
“What happened here today, Lord?”
This time she prayed a quick blessing before handing out the food, and this time she really meant it. She smiled at each child as she distributed the food to each grasping, outstretched arm.
“Here you go, Wilson. Eat up! Sapna, this is yours. Enjoy. Sashi, my friend. I’m so glad you’re here with us. Shoba, I hope you like today’s selection.”
After they wolfed down their food, some of the children deposited their sandwich wrappers on the dump, and others dropped them. Well, we’re making a little progress.
When everyone was done, Julie excitedly recounted, in great detail, Mahipal’s joyful arrival back home. The children all laughed when Julie acted out the enthusiastic group hug. “And, I didn’t have any money for the auto, but I knew you were here praying, and Mahipal’s mother tried to give me a lot! More than I even needed.”
“Your God answered as we prayed?” asked Sashi.
“Yes, He did. His name is Jesus, and He answered your prayers.”
“Why?”
“Because He loves you, and He wants to be a part of your life each day. He wants to be your friend.”
Sashi’s face brightened. “He wants to be my friend and talk to me?”
“Yes. He loves you. He created you, and He has a plan for your life.” Julie could see that the rest of the girls were listening, and Wilson seemed attentive, too.
Madhu sat working diligently on the seed with the nail. He gave a push and the top of the seed cracked. Julie saw the tears well in his eyes.
“I’m sorry, Madhu.” She smiled at him. He threw the seed toward the dump, put the nail back in his pocket, and pulled out a flat, folded square of paper that he manipulated into a silver cube. When he opened it the inside was blue, after a few more folds the silver was the inside and the blue was the outside.
“How’d you do that?”
Madhu smiled and pulled an intricately folded piece of grey paper from his pocket and made a few additional folds. Julie watched as an elephant took shape.
“Madhu. You’re so talented!” Julie watched him fold a crane, a frog, an airplane, and a kite.
Out of the corner of her eye, Julie saw movement. She was surprised to see the muscular policeman on the sidewalk watching them. When he realized he’d been spotted, he approached. Praveen shouted something, and all the children scattered behind the hedge, watching from a distance.
“I told you,” whispered Praveen, who was always looking for a good conspiracy, “policemen put orphans in jail and then grind them up for food.” He paused to look right and left. “They eat them every day!” This exclamation caused the children to run screaming further away.
Great, just what I need, a crooked policeman. What kind of trouble is he going to stir up? wondered Julie.
“Hello, I’m Daya,” said the officer, extending his hand. Julie was on her feet and forced a smile, trying to seem more confident that she was. Amazing, you’re off your duff and walking a beat?
“Can we talk?”
“Sure,” said Julie, her arms crossed. “We have two options—stand or sit on the dirt.” I know exactly how you operate. Don’t think you’re going to get away with anything.
“Here’s fine.” He crossed his legs and sat. “Your face looks better.”
“What?”
He pointed to his cheeks. “Not, um, red anymore.”
Julie nodded. “It finally cleared up.” Thanks for your concern—not.
“You have orphans.”
If he asks me for a bribe, I swear I’ll scream. “Yes, I told all of you I was taking care of orphans. You believe me now?”
“We believed you then.”
“If you believed me, then why didn’t anyone do anything?”
“Orphans don’t vote, and orphans don’t have money for bribes. That’s why orphans never get help. In India those who get help are those who can afford help.”
Well, that eliminates us. “What do you want?”
“To help.”
“I told you I have no money. My wallet was stolen—remember.” Julie rolled her eyes and let out a deep sigh.
“I don’t mean me, the police officer, I mean me, myself,” he said, placing his hand over his chest.
“And what do you want in return?”
“I want nothing from you in return.”
“Oh, well, the orphans aren’t for sale. They’re not going anywhere. We’re a family and we’ll fight you as a family.” Her voice began to rise. “We already ran off one guy who wanted them to beg, and we’re not afraid—”
“I want nothing from the orphans, either. I am a Jesus-follower, and I want to help.”
Julie’s false bravado collapsed. “You’re a, you believe in Jesus?”
“Yes, and He commands we help the widows and orphans.”
“Yes, He does.” Julie looked chagrined. I guess some people do it willingly.
“How can I help the orphans?”
“You really want to help the orphans? You want to help us?”
“Yes. What can I do?”
“We need food every day. I need to find homes for all these children. Their stories are heart-wrenching. They aren’t safe here. Can you see if you can find an address for one of our orphans? Her name is Chavvi Reddy; she is eight, and her house is very close to a park with a large fountain.”
“I know that park. It’s about ten kilometers away.”
“She has a loving family, but she was separated from them at a large religious festival.”
“That would be the Dasara festival; they celebrate the goddess Chamundi. I will see what I can find. Maybe we can get that little one back home.”
“Oh, that would be so wonderful. Maybe I’ll take back all the bad things I thought about you,” she smiled.
He stood. “And I will start bringing food for the orphans once a day. I will bring it during my lunch. I will also include this street in my route. I will walk it three times a day. If you have problems, I will help.”
“Oh,” sighed Julie, totally letting down her guard, “that’s wonderful. You have no idea how helpful that will be.” Before she could stop herself, she had flung her arms around Daya. He looked slightly embarrassed and took a step backward once he was released from her grip.
“I will come this Saturday and teach, how you say, self-deee-fense, to the children.”
“You’re really going to help us?”
“Yes. Maybe I will bring some friends later. How many to be fed?”
“Ten, um, 11 if you want me to eat.”
“Eleven then. Have you eaten today?”
“Yes.”
“I will be back tomorrow on my lunch break with your food.” He turned to go.
“One more thing. I hate to ask, but could you bring a bottle of hand sanitizer, the large size?”
Julie went to look for her orphans and found them huddled together behind a garden fence in someone’s backyard.
“Ravi, translate for me. Jesus has answered our prayers and has sent someone who will bring us food and help us. His name is Daya. Thank You, Jesus.” Julie was so excited she didn’t notice that the orphans weren’t.
“Let’s go! Let’s go back to the dump. He’s going to bring us food starting tomorrow.”
The orphans talked among themselves and decided that it was safe to return since he was gone, but if anyone saw him again the whole group would hide together back in this spot. They all adjourned back to the dump.