6 Chandini
The sisters, besides running the house, also visit the slums and plantation workers around the city. On one such occasion they came across an old woman who was looking after a severely mentally retarded girl who was maybe ten years old. The girl was being kept in a darkened room all day, no one to play with, nothing to see, no stimulation at all I should think. She was woefully thin, and upon enquiry it was found that she had only ever been fed on Marie biscuits: ‘She won’t eat anything else’ they were told. She was one of five children, two others were also handicapped, the father had deserted, and the mother was out at work. After talking with the family the child was brought to the House. When I resumed work at the home, Chandini, whose name means ‘Moonlight’, had been there for nearly a year, and had been doing fine until recently, when for some unknown reason she had started refusing all food.
when I met her
she had already decided
not to eat
not to drink
we know not why
she could not say
ten years went by
and then one day...
perhaps she felt unloved
or her cry went unheard
I remember
sitting with her
giving a drink
her mind elsewhere
her look vacant
I could see myself
reflected in her eyes
so close
so far
for I too
nearly died
through lack of love
until Jesus came
opening my eyes
to see the truth
of his love for me
and now I sorrow not
for I believe
he visits this child
on her bed
when I cannot be there
When the morning work session was over I would go for an hour’s meditation and prayer. The chapel is right next to the combined ladies and children’s ward, and as I sat there quietly all the shouting, arguing, and crying going on in the next room would find a place in my meditation. My initial reaction to all this pandemonium was to shut the door and windows and try to insulate the chapel against such an unwarranted intrusion. However, try as I may old ladies in disagreement with one another, and children in distress, were not going to be locked out of consciousness by a thin wooden partition. And then one day I discovered something very beautiful, which was, if I didn’t try and resist all the sorrow and anger and so on, which was all around me – and in me – if instead I simply sat there and watched it all without rejection, then one became like a channel, open at both ends, in which the pain of life was brought into God’s presence, and God was also made present to the world, bringing healing to those who suffer.
on another morn
I remember
I looked into her eyes:
into the abyss
with my mind quiet
and my spirit still
a moment of pure love
passed between us
she laughed
my sweet Chandini
she laughed in joy
to know she was loved
and reaching out
she groaned at me
the first time
her voice I’d heard
O bliss
that I should witness
this word incarnate
in the silence
After this Chandini started eating again with something approaching an appetite, though she still remained very difficult to feed. Breakfast, which might be mashed biscuit – she still likes those Maries – mashed potatoes, or indeed anything else as long as it’s mashed, can take anything up to an hour to feed her, depending on her degree of concentration. As all the children want attention, I’ve sometimes found myself feeding Chandini, talking to Isra, tickling Rohini, and admonishing Sinduja at the same time. All this extraneous activity is very distracting for the poor girl, let alone for me, and the feeding process is slowed down even further.
In the afternoon I would often sit with her for hour upon hour as she leisurely took her lunch. One day coming on to ward after the afternoon rest I found her mother was already at bedside, but Chandini was stubbornly refusing to be fed by her. Eventually at the mother’s insistence I went over and fed her, and of course she started to eat straight away, many hours of patient contact over the weeks had resulted in our having a very good understanding about the feeding process, and we had developed various signs to indicate that feeding was about to start, spoon is coming, mouth should open, and so forth. I was thinking what a terrible thing it was that a mother was not able to feed her own child, and even worse, along comes a total stranger and he apparently has no difficulty, but in fact she seemed to be happy that anyone was able to feed her.
Outside of work someone had offered me a hermitage that was to double as a meditation centre, and I saw that in order to give all my energies to the centre I would have to give up working at the House, although I would still be able to visit every once in a while.
three weeks can be
so long
to one
so young
I went away
and Chandini
so recently adopted
was found once more
an orphan
is it fair?
I asked myself
crying bitter tears
is life fair?
– why surely not
I returned at last
to see my children
and was greeted there
with laughs and smiles
but Chandini
looked
looked and looked
but saw no one there
she recognised
and now we’re both bereaved
until we meet again
but still I trust
the Lord is with her
and in the end
what matters is:
there was life
and there was love