Lost and Found
The Past - Lost: She sat down on the ground and leaned against the privacy fence that defined her yard. The yard is just a couple dozen square feet of hard dirt that seamlessly binds with the floor of her tiny home. The floor is also dirt, packed hard by decades of bare, dirty feet. Those of herself and those of her long-dead husband, her children, and now her grandchildren.
The fence she leaned against is comprised of a grid of a myriad of different shaped sticks. Some short and flat. Some long and round. They are tied together with various types of rope, all faded to gray by the same relentless sun that has produced deep wrinkles across her thin and weathered face. Sheets of woven palm fronds are further woven into the horizontal braces, providing privacy from the prying eyes of those passing by in this village filled with homes much like her own.
She pulled her knees to her chest and used a thin, gnarled hand to brush away an errant piece of trash that had blown up against her fence. A pointless effort because it was just one of many in a constant daily barrage of such trash. A gentle breeze blew a matted clump of white hair from her eyes. Eyes filled with the newly formed tears from her morning grief and despair. Grief and despair were a daily thing back then. Old friends almost. And like her desperation and hunger, truly the only consistent companions she had in the early hours of the morning.
She searched her heart and mind to find a new emotional companion, and after some thought, came to the conclusion that the companion of the day, definitely not new, but perhaps newly defined, was that she felt lost. Hopelessly lost.
She had lived in poverty for a very long time. She had been accustomed to having little to nothing and had managed to survive, but just managed. Then her daughter had lost her husband. That was the beginning of a new and even more desperate normal for the family. Suddenly there were no men to earn an income. An income that combined with the fruits of her own labor and that of her daughter, had barely been enough to provide meager meals for all the hungry mouths in the family. And locally, there just weren’t jobs available to her or her daughter to make up the difference.
She had watched with great concern as her daughter struggled to find better work. She stayed home to care for her two grandchildren and watched in anguish as they grew ever-thinner as the days and weeks passed. She heard their moans in the dark; and the anguish she felt for their pain was unbearable.
Then one dark and moonless night, she and her daughter had sat down against that same fence and whispered a long conversation about what must be done. They had held one another to calm the sobs and bury the sounds of their cries into the cloth on one another’s shoulders. The decision had been made. A desperate decision, but the only one that made sense.
Her daughter had found a job that would be enough to feed them. Not enough for anything else, but enough to keep them alive. There would be no school for the children. No money for anything else, but they might just survive. The caveat, as it were, was that she would have to travel hundreds of miles away to work in a factory. She would be gone for months at a time. Perhaps even years.
The children had cried the day she left. One of them had run off and been gone for hours. The granddaughter. She was so sensitive, like her mother. The grandson had gone off to search for her and found her down by the river and brought her home. Although he was younger, he had put on a brave face and convinced his older sister that they would be fine. That their mother needed them to be strong and their aged grandmother needed their strength as well. There wasn’t going to be time for tears anymore.
Months had gone by and they had settled into their new normal. Every couple of weeks money would come from their mother. Money and a short note, both of a digital nature, and both a welcome gift amidst the long and drawn-out days with nothing to do but consider their predicament. The children missed their mother and missed their friends at school. Their grandmother missed her daughter and grew more and more concerned as time went by. The situation was simply not sustainable. She, of course, was growing older by the day and the meager funds sent by her daughter just weren’t enough to provide adequate nutrition for her and the children. They were growing thinner and so was she.
But it wasn’t just the hunger and resulting malnutrition that had her concerned. She knew things. Things about the future that terrified her. She worried for both her grandchildren’s futures without an education, but worried most about her granddaughter. She knew all too well what happened to young ladies in India who had no education. She had seen it many times. There simply were no good outcomes for them if they didn’t have an education.
And that is how she ended up there. Her back against the fence. Tears in her eyes and a hopeless feeling in her heart. The future was just so dark.
The Present - Found: Being lost can be terrifying, but it also matters who or what finds you. There are predators out there everywhere, seeking to take advantage of your situational weakness.
So, it was no surprise that this desperate grandmother, caring for two young and vulnerable children, was a bit suspicious when a stranger came knocking one day. He was well-dressed and seemed kind, but there were wolves out there in sheep’s clothing. Hungry wolves.
He had told her who he was and that he represented an organization that helped widows and orphans. He told her they were starting a new program that was intended to help keep families like hers together. They would provide food and clothing, an education for the children, children’s Bibles and even counseling and spiritual education.
It had taken a few meetings to convince her. It had taken a few months after that for her to believe what he had told her. To trust. But the food had kept coming. The children were going to school and the color was back in their faces. The weight back on their bones. Smiles and laughter instead of tears and sobbing in the middle of the night. The counselor had been there too. He brought Bibles and talked to the children about God and Jesus. She could see the hope in their eyes and felt it in her own heart.
She no longer worries like she used to, although now and then she catches herself fearing that it will all go away. Everything else has. But as each day passes, she grows stronger. As each day passes, she sees a brighter future for her family and she is thankful beyond measure.
One old ritual remains. She still sneaks out to the fence and leans back against those old sticks, brushing away the trash and bowing her head to her knees. But she no longer cries tears of desperation. Instead, she cries tears of joy and closes her eyes and thanks God that while she was once lost, she has been found.