Sunday, February 21, 2010, 11am - Village Clinic
As I sat under a tree outside the small community building where the clinic was being held, children flocked around me to see my white ( and I do mean white!) face and arms. Dr. David was inside with two India doctors, and the line of villagers needing medical care stretched out at least 50 feet and never seemed to get any shorter. Meanwhile I rested in the shade and worked on international relations. Kumar was 15 and in 10th Standard. Like most Indian kids he was incredibly small for his age, maybe 18 inches smaller than my son Isaac who is a year younger. Kumar was one of those kids that struck me with the eagerness in his eyes, a friendly nature and English good enough for us to converse. He liked Math and said he wanted to be an engineer. I could tell he was a bright youngster, and he was a pleasure to be with. After we talked and I taught him to play thumb war, his dad came out from the clinic and walked over. He was in typical Indian lower caste garb with an open shirt and dhoti. Kumar told me he was a common laborer and worked on a nearby farm. Contrasting the father and son, it didn’t really seem like Kumar had much of a chance to fulfill the potential that God had placed in his life. It made me very sad. Then his dad spoke to me for a minute. When I asked Kumar what he had said, the boy looked down at the ground. I asked him again, and Kumar told me that his father had said he would sell Kumar to me if I would take him to America. I get tears in my eyes when I think about it.
--By Kim Turkington
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