A strange meeting

I live in the rural university town of Santiniketan [the university founded by the Nobel laureate Rabindranath Tagore in 1901], in west Bengal, India –here is a story of a strange meeting that changed my perspectives and understanding of my life and I want to share it with you.

It was almost ten at night when I heard the familiar sound of the banging of the gate of our house .I walked to the gate –outside it, stood a man –a foreigner, Caucasian .He wore a white robe, a large cross was on hanging his chest. I could understand that he was a priest .His English was broken, and his accent unfamiliar to me! It was enough though to communicate –he told me he was a Jesuit from France, Father Francis Marie, looking for home of the Jesuit brothers in Santiniketan .As he had lost his way in the dark. Not knowing what to do he had somehow found his way to Shantidan (the gift of peace) the orphanage run by the sister of the missionaries of charity. But it too late .The gates were locked by 9:30.

Totally lost, he knocked on our gate as a last resort. I decided to give him a lift on by bike .On our way I learned that he was working with the children living on railway platforms in Kolkata.

I could not help but invite him to my home the next afternoon .I had lot of questions burning in my heart. He told be he would be at Shantidan .At around 4 that afternoon I entered the orphanage and climbed the stairs to the floor in which father was and what I found him with a baby in one hand and a feeding bottle in the another. He was returning to the Jesuits and decided to take the to mile walk –it would give ample opportunity learn what I wanted to.

The answer to my first question surprised me very much .He used to work in the French railways before embracing a monastic life .14 years ago he heard Christ’s call. He told that who ever desires to serve the poor could hear the call of god.

“Why do you come and work in our country! Don’t you think that because people like you come, so called upper cast people here in India, like me ,can become couch –potatoes and do nothing” I asked. "because I guess I don’t have poverty in yours” remarked with a lot of disgust, because a felt kind of ashamed that we need a stranger from 5000 miles away to serve the poor of our county. His answer shocked me - “we give 200 meals a day on railway platforms in Paris, if that’s not poverty what is?” Actually when some one mentioned Paris, what came to my mind was the Eiffel tower and the Lovre museum. That would change now .My seventeen and half year old eyes had never noticed the fact that poverty strikes across nations, languages, races and faiths. He told me spend a night with him at the station in Kolkata when I could. He said I would feel a lot better if I did that!

Mother Teresa was possibly the one who started this tradition of coming to this faraway land to serve the poor and many have followed .Yes, they are controversial figures –often accused of converting people in Christianity by force, sometimes rightly so. But there are some who put the religion of Man ahead of the religions made by Man. the simple but quintessential realization that you serve god by serving the impoverished brings them across oceans to India. Father Francis was one of them.

My experience made me remember a poem by Leigh Hunt -

Abou Ben Adhem

Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!)
Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,
And saw, within the moonlight of his room,
Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom,
An angel writing in a book of gold:-
Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold,
And to the presence in the room he said,
'What writest thou?' - The vision raised its head,
And with a look made of all sweet accord,
Answered 'The names of those who love the Lord.'
'And is mine one?' said Abou. 'Nay, not so,'
Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low,
But cheerly still; and said 'I pray thee then,
Write me as one that loves his fellow-men.'

The angel wrote, and vanished. The next night
It came again with a great wakening light,
And showed the names who love of God had blessed,
And lo! Ben Adhem's name led all the rest.

Indeed that name could so easily be- Father Francis Marie.