Children of Nong Tau

Our plan was to be the people that give and serve.  Our plan was that after a season of so much blessing upon us, that it was finally our time to bless.  Our plan was to have an unconventional honeymoon/excuse to travel wherein we spent a time of giving after feeling sick with so much gratitude from our family and friends.

But sometimes it must be reminded that, it is not WE who are the ultimate deciders of our plan.

We met with Partners in Chaing Mai [http://www.partnersworld.org/usa/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=141] and sought out our opportunity to volunteer with a Children's Home.  We were sent off the following week into the mountain village of the Karen ethnic minority.  In total there were 34 children and two care-takers on a modest and well kept plot of land in a very rural village.

Our duty was to teach English each day after the children returned from their 7:00-16:00 school days and to help out with any other tasks needing done around the grounds.  We did our best in helping the building project of a pavilion sitting area that went mostly up in one afternoon, helping with some new fencing, preparing grounds for a new road being built....and though we gave our best elbow grease in scrubbing algae-mud-like covered roofing tiles, we still felt like those things and the one hour evening English sessions didn't even come close to what we received from these gracious warm people of the church community and the children they cared for.  

As a great man (my father) once said, "their generosity humbles me."

Our best way to explain, is with perspective.  

We woke to chilly darkness, before the time of the rooster's crows each morning, to the sound of quiet children's whispers and shuffling sandals through the thin walls of our modest guest room under the church. The next sound was a single strum on a guitar, then, an eruption of glorious singing...enough to penetrate any human soul straight to the sobering heart.  A song of praise in Karen, a song of such beauty, a song of the richness of children's booming voices penetrating the darkness of the early morning crisp air.  Then the gentleness in the teachings of Bahpit to the hooded, shivering, coughing yet eagerly listening children.  Bahpit and Dahmoon.  A couple with a compassion and care so evident, my heart swells with pride for having even had the privileged of spending time knowing them.  

Then, the sound of tin treys and the clinking of metal spoons while they downed the warm soup and rice.  More shuffling of feet as they scurried about in their morning chores; washing their dishes under icy cold water spigots, sweeping the grounds, before half-running off to school.  I would find myself aiding in the kitchen with the duteous task of preparations for dinner when the children would return from school all routinely greeting all the adults individually in the most respectful manner...a chorus of greetings from such a number of respectful children is a sound to remember!  Then off to their afternoon chores around the grounds.  Corey played soccer with the boys while I fumbled in all my giant-like attempts at playing dodge-ball and catch.  Children are intimidating.  

Our connection points with them came through music.  As Corey and I muttered like fools on the first day of teaching English...we scribbled some phrases on a large sheet of paper while the children repeated everything we said in such a trained and organized way.  The organization was too much for me!  In that, I pulled out one of the only hat-tricks I have: the life-saving gift of improvisation.  Flawlessly, I turned the mess of scribbled phrases into an extremely lively song full of movement and shouting and laughing...like all kids need.  Soon enough, the English lessons were full of boisterous singing and smiling children.  Soon enough, class ended and thumbs-ups and handshakes were given.  Relieved and full of joy, we started to feel some sense of purpose in these children's lives.  Off to the gathering circle around the fire to keep warm in the evenings before bed.  Then wide-eyed children around the fire all laughing and talking like a big family together.   

Without our prior knowing, most of the children left for the weekend.  It happened to be the rare weekend that parents come from afar to retrieve their children.  About 1/3 of them were left behind, but we experienced the dynamic change of everything.  Chores were no more and special goodies were pulled out, like warm pumpkin sweet dessert soup.  Laughter was plenty.  Bellies were full.

Another member of the church community was May.  Another compassionate care taker for teenagers outside the village.  A woman with such grace and peace you felt as if an angel sat before you.  Her story was incredible. I won't go into much detail of the specific blessings of the week because it would require me to write a book.  As you can see, I'm not one for condensing my thoughts with much efficiency.  It would also require me to start sobbing with such humility for we offered them all that we could but they in-turn blessed us back even stronger.   We left them with the meager earnings of what I received that day long ago performing in the market and a few wooden benches we built for them to sit around the fire with.  More, we left them with a promise that we will return with our own children one day. Imagine that?!

My plea today, is that the momentarily-internet-dwellers of home, spend some time getting to know the situations of the wide world.  This community in specific is prospering in its necessities from what we saw, because an organization called Partners had an awareness and supports them.  Children are provided with hope and an education that would have been impossible otherwise. For what little they have, they give so much.  The least we can do as a blessed and  rather fortunate culture, is to keep them in our conversations and our prayers.  They worship the same God we do.  That itself is a beauty to experience.

The world is full of beautiful people.  Remember that.

M