I was not expecting to have a special Thanksgiving this year, in a country where “Indians and Pilgrims” has a different meaning, and “thank you” is rarely part of a person’s vocabulary.
But last night, 40 of Manav Sadhna’s friends and family joined for an internationally inspired dinner, cooked by the volunteers. We experimented with sweet potatoes to make a pudding for dessert (which turned out more like sweet potato soup), invested several hours into a decadent paneer butter masala, and wrapped up the untraditional feast with caramel popcorn balls – which were quite a crowd pleaser.
After dinner, I joined Sunilbhai, an MS staff member, to deliver some of the delicious leftovers to two children he has been very connected with in the Old City.
I had met Karan and Tejashwari once before, about three weeks ago on Karan’s tenth birthday. The brother and sister are adorable, loving, and full of spunk. Yesterday was the first time I visited their home.
As I entered, Tejashwari greeted me warmly by wrapping her arms around my waist and burying her head under my arm. I hugged her tightly back.
Sunilbhai commented on the shocking sea-green color the children had recently painted the walls, and the pictures of their parents that had been hung up.
After the death of their parents five years, Teju, now 14, and Karan have lived on their own. They spent a brief stint in a children’s hostel in Gandhi Ashram, about three years ago. During their time at the Ashramshala, Karan began showing signs of a skin infection. Medical tests soon revealed that both he and his sister are HIV positive.
The children did not find it easy to live in the hostel. The constant schedule and routine made them unhappy, as they were used to living independently and doing as they wished. In addition, the teachers at the hostel worried about them living and playing in such close contact with other children.
Although there are other hostels in India especially for children like Karan and Teju, most of them require the boys and girls to live separately, which they are not willing to do.
They returned to their home from the Ashramshala, and ever since have been taking care of each other. Watching the prem, or love, between the siblings is truly touching. Together, they manage their house – cleaning, cooking, and washing all on their own.
Although Teju and Karan live alone and have certainly matured beyond their age due to their circumstances, there is no doubt that they are still children and want to enjoy a childhood filled with playfulness and mischief.
After welcoming Sunilbhai and I into their home, Teju rushed to find a Barbie doll she had just been gifted by the Make-A-Wish Foundation. She sat the doll down next to me and insisted that I help her dress it properly and comb its hair. Meanwhile, Karan was excitedly showing Sunilbhai the remote control car he had received.
After we left, Sunilbhai divulged his deep worry about the children. He explained that the area that they live in one of the worst neighborhoods in Ahmedabad. Although the kids have a good rapport with their neighbors, who often supply them with groceries, they have no one to look after them continuously. As a result, they have discontinued their HIV treatment.
“They don’t go to school. They don’t have much discipline. And worst of all, they don’t have an understanding about their disease,” Sunilbhai went on. “Teju is getting older now too. She is already 14. Unless they are put in a controlled environment, they might end up in real trouble.”
I’ll end with a thought that was read at prathna yesterday morning: Gratitude and sorrow cannot coexist
It’s a simple and powerful idea. The act of being thankful fundamentally negates self-pity and distress.
Despite their tragic and unfortunate circumstances, Karan and Teju are full of life and love. They enjoy whatever little they have to the fullest, and such enjoyment of simple pleasures leaves no room for sorrow in their tiny home.
Sometimes our lives need to be shown against a different background to reveal the good things we have come to take for granted. This may have been the first Thanksgiving that I have felt real gratitude for the countless blessings in my life.
I went to bed last night with my heart filled with thanks, and my brain filled with anxiety about the sweet brother and sister.
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