Week #1

This has definitely been a week to remember. The first few days were rough, I'd say even painful, as I struggled to adjust to living across the globe. I was suddenly submerged and floundering in a culture completely foreign to me, in a time zone completely opposite from home, missing my family like crazy. Finally after what felt like the longest four days of my life, I have somewhat regained my bearings and am adjusting to Indian life. Thank God for Nina, the other volunteer here, for sympathizing with my discomfort and doing everything she could to make sure I was settling in. George and his wife Jyothi have welcomed me with open arms as a part of their family and have done everything possible to make me feel at home. Still, the first few days were anxiety ridden, I was already homesick and questioning my

decision to come here at all. Here I am, surrounded by children who have practically nothing, and I was the one feeling like an orphan. After getting a chance to talk to my family, I was reminded of the reasons why I am here, as well as the army of supporters I have surrounding me, and have since felt rejuvenated and ready for action.

The children here are incredible. They welcomed me early in the morning as I first arrived, and had a song and dance program for me the first night I was here. They call me Auntie for the most part, but sometimes Akka (big sister) or HannahAkka. They are responsible, respectful, and positive, though they are orphaned, abandoned, or come from families who cannot care for them. Here they learn to be self-reliant and to take care of one another. They do their own dishes, wash their own clothes, and wake up hours before school every day to sing praises to God. They have a genuine joy in their hearts and are incredibly inspirational individuals. They know that they are loved, and they want to love in return.

On Thursday, Jyothi took us to the slums of Chettappa Garden in Jeevanahali to visit the widows. These were slums like I have never seen before. Cows and stray dogs sifted through the mountains of trash surrounding the shacks and shanties that served as shelter for many of these people. This is where George grew up and where some of his family still resides, working to help provide for those who cannot provide for themselves. The widows who can work usually have domestic jobs in homes, and often have to come from far away to make it to the ministry. There they can find emotional and spiritual support as well as receive a modest stipend and a snack. They come to share their problems, receive counseling, and return home with a small Rs. 300 in their pocket, but with pride in their hearts, knowing they have the ability to care for themselves for another month. I was honored to be a part of such a humbling ministry, to share words of encouragement, and distribute their allowances.

I knew when I came here that I would return home a changed person. I knew that I would grow in ways that I could not foresee through helping those who need love, though I was unprepared to be faced with so many of my own shortcomings in just the first few days. I am here to teach these children whatever I can, but I know in the end they will teach me more than I could ever imagine.