Empty Hands, Full Heart 

By Molly L., on mission in India

As many challenges I find in this country, I cannot help but fall in love with it all the more. India is a land of many paradoxes–filth and beauty, mystical and natural, joy and sorrow, all coexist in one wondrous reality. In just a short walk down a street in Chengalpet, I smell aromas of sweet jasmine flowers, rank mounds of trash, savory street food, and unbearable human waste. My eyes are drawn to the colorful kolams so intricately drawn on the ground, the bright yellow, pink, and blue houses laden with golden and green sarees hanging out to dry on the rooftops, as well as the disease-ridden street dogs and skin-and-bone cattle that roam about freely. My ears are never empty of honking horns on the busy roads, Hindu chants or Tamil music blaring from speakers, or the call of different street vendors as they work to make their living for the day. Any time we leave the house, we inevitably run into at least one of our friends for a conversation.

In so many ways, I am so poor in this mission. I come with so little to give our friends. Yet, because my hands are empty, I am able to receive so much. My community sisters teach me how to cook, how to buy things from the market, and how to navigate the streets of our neighborhood. Our friends give me Tamil lessons, many of my meals, and most generously, their friendship itself. It amazes me how they can love me so much, even just after meeting me one time.

My empty hands have taught me how to receive from God. I have no choice but to kneel before the Lord daily and beg for the graces just to live my day and live my mission. I know that I have nothing to offer beyond my mere presence, so it must be God that gives through me. In this way, my poverty is so good, because I know that this mission cannot be mine, but it must be God’s.