The Light In Their Eyes!
The Light In Their Eyes!2 mins 8.7K 2 mins 8.7K
My day started as perhaps every other teenager's day would have, the aroma of hot coffee coming from the direction of the kitchen, mingled with the irritated sounds of my mother coaxing me to wake up.
Grumbling about the bad sleep I'd had because of the chill in the air last night, I finally pushed away all my blankets and groggily started walking towards the kitchen. I took the cup of coffee and, as I was reading the paper, started advising my mother how she could brew the coffee better by adding a little bit of sugar to it.
Today's day was special .Our church was organizing a visit to an orphanage which took care of destitute women. Being a staunch feminist, I was eager to meet my fellow female counterparts belonging to a stratum of the society very different from my own.
I really don't what I was expecting but it certainly wasn't what I saw! Maybe it was the sheltered, protected life I had led,but I was speechless at the sight of 20-25 women, most of them mentally challenged, staring at me and the other church members with hope and light in their eyes.
Our priest said that some of us could visit the upper floors. Hesitating for a moment, I followed my mother .Most of them there were sitting on the floor wearing gowns covering their legs. Initially I thought that they were sitting there due to lack of space. Only later on did I realize that their legs had been amputated accidently or on purpose and that a majority of them had been picked up from gutters and railway platforms. One of them was a middle-aged woman who weighed no more than 30 kilograms and had to be tied to a chair with a belt as she could not even sit straight due to weak spine and poor motor reflexes. We had planned to have lunch with these less privileged members of our society, but how could I explain it to the others that the lump in my throat just wouldn't allow it!
When the time came to bid adieu to these handicapped but none the less amazing women, I was happy and sad at the same time. Sad because I had been pulled out of my comfort zone and had to confront the harsh realities of life. Happy because their sufferings made me count my blessings.
In the evening when I was drinking my coffee, my mother enquired whether the coffee was sweet enough. I replied in the affirmative but idly wondered when the sourness in the lives of my sisters would disappear!