Yesterday, 2 of my colleagues (Nikita & Dhaval) and some our friends visited the Maher
center . The idea was to get together with the kids and play some games with
them. The kids who are currently at the center are the ones who have no
relatives whatsoever and hence are the only ones are who left behind at the
center during the summer vacation. Some of the kids have distant relatives or
short term adoptive families who take them away for a few days of vacation.
We were all greeted by the traditional Maher welcome song, with the
kids all bunched up, singing in their clumsy yet extremely endearing way,
running up to hug us every few seconds. Some of them would refuse to let go,
they’d just hold on, cling to you, look up at your face with those big innocent
eyes, which had nothing but joy and a touch of mischief in them! While the
sentimental ones among us were fighting back their tears, the kids dragged us
towards the other compound in their excitement so we could begin our games.
Nikita was leading the effort, so she and her friends began with
games that I had played a as a child, in the days when it was cool and fun to
go out in the backyard and play loud, jumpy games with your friends rather than
a videogame in an air conditioned room. (Yea I sound like an old hag reminiscing
about the “good old days” but it’s true).
Being with the kids was as
always, a reminder of my own privilege for me, and the realities I so often
forget about the world we live in. It was amazing to see how much fun the kids
could have by just being together; no fancy equipment, no jazzy toys. Just an
old, bare compound which came alive with the laughter and cheering of kids
playing with a ball and a bunch of small rocks! I couldn’t help but think, here
I am, with all my worries and disappointments, feeling sorry for the things the
media or the powerful people tell me I ought to have (power, personality,
beauty, respect etc etc) , but with everything a person could ask for for the
sake of a comfortable life. And I juxtaposed myself against these kids, who had
nothing but a community home, 3 basic meals a day and the bare necessities to
get by in life. And I realized that they had so much more of the stuff that
really mattered.
They had
gratitude. For a bunch of strangers who they may never even see again, but
they overflowed with joy and made us feel like celebrities. They clung to us,
kissed our cheeks, wanted to be held & hugged, wanted to pose with us for
pictures, joked around with us as if we had been friends for years and would
continue to be. They were as excited and happy to be with us as we might be to
see Al Pacino (well you can sneer all you want, I LIKE him :P , he’s awesome,
you can pick your own).
They had the
capacity to laugh. Endlessly, joyfully, ever so readily. They didn’t care if you
cracked a smart & witty joke, they didn’t weigh whether the humour of what
was happening or being said was worth their laughter & smiles. They laughed
just because we were there with them, and a part of the fun. I don’t remember
the last time I could do that, just laugh & express joy because someone was
kind to me and cared enough to be around. Just for a couple of hours.
They had faith.
They trusted life. Life has been far more unfair to these kids than to me or most
people I know. Some of them have witnessed horrors that no child ought ever to
see, their mothers being burnt, their fathers being killed, themselves being
beaten and abused, being left to starve and die. And yet, each one of the kids
had the energy of all 8 of us adults put together. They wanted to sing and
dance, show off their talents, or just jump around and be silly! They showed no
trace of fear in their voice or their eyes, all one could see was buckets full
of life poured into each one of them, barely contained. They knew there was
going to be a tomorrow, they knew theey were going to laugh and be happy, just
as they were now.
They had more of all this than I have had in such a long time: gratitude, faith, courage, joy.
Despite the searing heat, it was a great few hours that we spent with
them, and they looked forward to seeing us again. On the way back, as all of us
were chatting about just how awe inspiring the kids were, the thought running
through my head was this – those of us to take the time to serve others might
think that we are doing them a favor by serving them, that somehow it makes us
better than others, a good moral example of what we ought to be. But the truth
is, those we serve are actually the ones who are serving us, they open our eyes
to a bigger reality, they teach us that there is no connection between
heartfelt joy and the possessions / comforts one has, they show us how much
more we are yet to learn about ourselves and about life and they make us see
our own potential for courage and joy. So, it’s us who ought to be grateful,
for everything we get to feel and see through them. And so I shall remain, ever
grateful to these great little kids!
