Baxter Gentry

Journal from India

This journal entry is from Baxter Gentry, one of our volunteers who has traveled to India.

 

What a long trip! I got sick on the airplane. All I wanted was to go home, orphans or not. As I walked out of the Delhi airport, I didn’t see India at first, but I smelled it. It was hot, congested, filthy and noisy. I can’t begin to describe the experience of being nauseated and riding in the front seat of a cab, as we dodged trucks, cars, rickshaws, oxcarts and pedestrians. The endless honking of horns filled the air.

 

Arriving in Bhubaneshwar, walking through baggage claim, I saw over the barricade, the tops of children’s heads, and as I approached, their dancing eyes. Huge smiles appeared on their faces. Small flower arrangements, held tightly in their hands, were extended out to us. A few of the orphans had come to greet us. They were extremely shy, not uttering a sound, except for the occasional giggle.

 

Pulling into the orphanage in Choudwar, we were swarmed by all of the kids. How healthy and happy they were. We taught them to high five. They laughed and eagerly joined in. We were escorted to the prayer room where we were introduced. It was my birthday. What a gift, to look out over the ocean of sweet faces. I felt at home right away, so warmly accepted. We prayed together.

 

My illness? What illness?

 

Papa leads this community. I was amazed by the depth of his devotion to his orphans. This has been his life. He asks for nothing and seems perfectly content detached from all things material. But, oh, how deeply grateful he is that we help his children.

 

Returning the next day, the kids warmed up quickly. They are genuinely appreciative of how we support them. All they had to do is look out the front gate, onto the street, to be reminded of where they came from. We have a blast, playing games with them, tug a war, ultimate frisbee, and bulldog, We brought play dough. I had fashioned a duck. One of the kids grabbed it and it fell apart. I cried out my best Donald Duck impression, “Hey, watch it” It became a game. They smashed my sculpture. I screamed like an irate duck. I laughed. They laughed.

 

At the orphanage, they waited on you, hand and foot. The food was great. They insisted that you take rest. And, as soon as you lay down, there would be four or five pairs of hands, working you over, about as good as any licensed massage therapist. And all the while, they chatter away in their native tongue.

 

There is an interdependence and communal life here that we don’t typically share.

 

As we traveled to the second orphanage in Rourkela, again, we were met with such warm hospitality. The kids were healthy. The home was orderly with the housemothers clucking about. When I entered the nursery, I saw row after row of cribs and lots of babies. Unwed mothers had come here to give birth and offer their children up for adoption, before returning to their village. One child, near death from malnutrition, had been brought in that night. Its mother had died. I watched as the women, who were obviously experienced and serious, brought this baby back to life.

 

Without the Miracle Foundation, many of these babies would either have been aborted or left in the bush to die, some eaten by animals. Instead, their lives are preserved, and a home provided for them.

 

This face-to-face time with our orphans is vital. I invite anyone to experience the love and the joy, they offer. Know that through your support, their lives have been dramatically improved. They have a safe place to sleep, food in their stomachs, clothes on their backs and the opportunity to get an education. You have made that happen.

 

As we left, I cried. The kids were concerned. I said, “No, no. These aren’t tears of sadness. Your love fills me so, it flows out of my eyes.”

 

Extending our trip down to the tsunami zone, I am overwhelmed by the destruction but, also by the sheer resilience of these people, who are so adept at surviving. The village, that the Miracle Foundation built, is bustling. We encounter hundreds and hundreds of kids attending our day care center. They scream with excitement as our arrival is announced. However, in many of the children, huddled away by themselves, I saw in their eyes, the devastation of losing their family.

 

I hold to this day, a chilling image in my mind. We were driving through the slums of Calcutta. A naked, emaciated child played in a pool of black water while another picked through a pile of rotting garbage. The stench of death filled the air.

Thank you for saving our children. Please rest at night, knowing that our kids do. And together, we will continue our mission to rescue these children, one orphan at a time.

 

Back to the Ambassadors page

There are many ways you can get involved with this worthy cause, click here to learn more about how you can help.