When India Broke My Heart Open

 

The first thing I noticed was the noise. Everything was big. And loud with people. Everyone was talking at once. Or shouting. But not in the angry kind of way. More like in the trying to be heard kind of way. We exchanged our money at the airport and went outside to get a ride to the youth hostel. I can’t remember if a car was already waiting for us to arrive or if we just found a taxi. The air was thick with pollution and diesel fuel. I don’t remember if it was early in the morning or dusk. Everything was starting to blur in the excitement and jet lag.

I think we went straight to bed that first day or night or whatever it was. The next morning I woke to the loudness again. This time it was different. It was a protest. Thousands of people flooded the street that went right past our window. The colors nearly knocked me off my feet. I’ve never seen so much color in my life. The banners. The clothes. The skin. The eyes. Everything glowed even in the hazy light of morning and polluted air.

The year was 1998. I went to India for three months with a Christian Missionary group. I was 19 and myself, on a mission. My enthusiasm for Christianity and music had reached an all time high.  Standing in that window opening, my heart burst open. I immediately fell in love with this country. These people. I knew I would never be the same.

This morning I sponsored a three year old Indian girl through World Vision. When my own daughter was just two months old, Nandani’s beautiful life began. In this week of feeling thankful for all that we have, as we prepare to celebrate American Thanksgiving, I am thankful for the experience I had, the light I saw, and thankful for the opportunity to give a tiny bit back through this sponsorship.

You can sponsor a child at World Vision by clicking here

This post is inspired by Eden Riley who is currently on a trip to India with World Vision. This post is not sponsored in any way by anyone.  Well, maybe by my parents because they paid for my trip to India and the phone bill from calling me every day to make sure I was still alive. I was. More alive than I had ever been before. 

 

 

Author: Casey

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