The Choir and the Conductor

       Our elementary, middle school, and high school students completed their choir performances. They were fantastic! It was wonderful to listen to them sing with passion and beauty. One element of the concert was new to me. Between the group performances, select students performed solos. It was great to see their talents highlighted and enjoy such a variety of music.
       As I watched the concerts, I was struck by a simple occurrence. Like all good musicians, most of the students carefully watched the conductor's hands. As Mr. Thomas, the choir director, kept rhythm, cued parts, and led the selections, the performers eyes were glued to his hands. His hands told the students what, when, and how they were to sing. If the students had decided to perform based on their own expectations of what should happen, their own interpretation of the best speed, blending, and timing, the performance would not have been beautiful and successful.
      Our lives are the same way. We are supposed to be carefully watching our Maker's hands. When He beckons, we should promptly respond. A world is watching our actions, but our focus must be on our God, the Conductor of our lives. He knows all the important details and He wants us to be successful in sharing His beautiful message of love and hope. If we take our eyes off His lead, we will not be able successfully produce His selection. However, if we carefully, attentively, eagerly, and joyfully watch and respond to His leading, He will work in ways beyond our greatest dreams. Just like the choirs, we must trust and diligently follow the lead of our Great Conductor.

Hopping out of the Ordinary

   I just had quite the emotional day! It started out on a hilarious note. Well, I guess if I am going back to the beginning, it started on a sleepy note. I did not want to wake up for Saturday school! Then it turned hilarious when I got to school. One of my boys said, "Miss Holly, can you please take care of this cockroach?" It was on its back by his desk, but still at least partly alive. I said sure and grabbed the trash can. I looked around for something to use to push it into the bin. I decided upon my student's pencil. The problem started when my pencil flick missed the trash can and put the little guy back on his feet. Apparently he had more life left in him than we thought because he started to run right up my foot!
     My formerly calm state vanished as I jumped around and made soft squeals. I proceeded to shake my leg like crazy and the little roach went sailing through the air and landed right in an innocent bystander's backpack as he was leisurely unpacking. I mean it landed RIGHT in the open pouch! I watched as my student stared at it, moved around quickly, but was unable to decide just what to do. Suddenly he grabbed the backpack, flipped it upside down, and ferociously shook it. Out tumbled the roach, on his feet again. It started scurrying around the floor, among the pencils, erasers, and pieces of trash that had also fallen out of the backpack. By this time all the surrounding students were screeching. Backpack boy heroically snapped into action and powerfully stomped the roach to his death, all while still sitting in his seat.
    At this point I sent a student to get a broom to sweep the pancake roach into the trash. Before he could get back however, another brave little hero carefully picked up the remains of the roach by one of its antennas. He triumphantly, and yet casually, walked to the trash bin and plopped the deceased roach inside. What a way to start the morning!
    The next great event happened during Bangla time. My students were settled into their Bangla lesson, with the Bangla teacher, and I had just sat down at my desk to start grading papers. All of a sudden, the fire alarm went off! They quickly formed a number order line. They moved like a well oiled machine. I scooped up my clipboard and glanced over fire drill procedures as I headed to the front of the line. We waited for our turn to enter the procession of students filing down the narrow stairway. A thick quietness engulfed the hallway. Then, it was shattered by the giggles and whispers of my class! This is where the anger of the day enters the scene. I gave them my best teacher glare and told them I didn’t want to hear a peep! After that they were angels.
    The school day finally came to an end as I waved goodbye to my last student. I stayed for a few extra hours to grade papers, plan, and organize. Then it was time to start my next adventure. Meagan was going to a birthday party, so it was up to me to walk myself home. No big deal, I only had to cross the insane “highway”, walk through the dump, make my way along the maze of a path home, and make a few stops along the way. I asked God to go before me and help me get across the biggest road. Huge buses, rickshaws, speedy CNGs, and cars whizzed by. Then I saw my opening and dashed across the first half of the road. I stood on the meridian and waited for my second opening to make it the rest of the way.
    I noticed a Bangladeshi man preparing to cross ahead of me. I was quite pleased because when there are nationals I simply stand a little too close for comfort and walk exactly when they do. Much to my dismay, the man started walking toward me, and then past me. I was on my own. No openings emerged so I waited a minute. I glanced behind me and there the man was! He was going to cross behind me so I would get hit, not him! Not to worry, I worked my expert skills, meaning God made an opening for me, and I scurried the rest of the way across the road.
    I made my way to the shopping building where I wanted to exchange a dvd that didn’t work. After a few minutes of riding escalators, I reached the shop. I love those men! They are always so sweet and helpful. They make me feel like a very important person. The exchange was made with no problems, and I was on my way again.
    As I approached the second escalator, the young man in front of my paused. I stopped to let him get on his stair first, then I waited to let a few stairs emerge between us, and I hopped on my own stair. My careful planning was thwarted as the young man turned around and asked me if I was British. He proceeded to ask me several questions as he followed me out of the building. I tried to politely, but shortly, answer him. He asked if we could, “make friendship”. With a smile, I said no. Realizing he was going to be persistent, I approached a rickshaw driver to take me the next stretch of my journey. The rickshaw driver said he didn’t want to go in the direction I was headed. It didn’t bother me though because the only reason I asked was to escape the man. So, I began walking again.
    My next stop was at the tailor’s. I zig-zagged my way through the building and staircases to reach my tailor’s shop. He smiled as I greeted him with the cultural greeting. He was actually in the middle of working on one of my outfits. He packaged up my pieces that were done and asked me to wait five minutes so he could make one more sewing addition to the sari tops. When he arrived with the sewn blouses, he began ironing them in preparation to give them to me. It was at this moment that I realized I have been ironing wrong my whole life. He slams the iron down on the fabric with spirit and then proceeds to press out the wrinkles. The trick seems to be the powerful slam because he repeated it many times. He gave me my items and I completed my trek home.
     God has a way of turning ordinary moments into grand theatrics. I never know who or what will enter the stage next. His little blessings pile up so quickly that they tumble over and flood my life with joy. Whenever I have a challenging day I need to take a breath and count my blessings. They surely do pour down like rain, and this time of year, that is saying something in Bangladesh.

Meandering with the Munchkins

     I saw my first rat today. Don’t worry it was not in our house. Actually, it was almost a pleasant experience. I know, that sounds crazy. Have you ever read the children’s book Desperoux? One of the main characters is a rat. Therefore, rats sometimes don’t seem quite as disgusting to me as they should, if they keep a safe distance. It also helps that this rat was scampering along a trickle of water in a ditch. At that moment, the sun was shining, I just finished a fantastic day of school, and the rat seamed to share my enthusiasm for the day.
    The cockroaches are a different story. They appear to have made an announcement to the cockroach community that our house is a delightful place to live. I have killed around five already this week. It is not uncommon at all to hear Meagan shriek, followed by a loud thud, as she smashes her fair share too. Cockroaches I can handle, but praise God they are not wolf spiders. Seriously, the name itself sends shudders down my spine.
    Walking home from school is always an adventure. So far, we have always survived crossing the swarming street. Although, Meagan saw her life flash before her eyes a few days ago when her shoe caught on the meridian and she nearly stumbled into the road against her wishes. However, today’s adventure involved our precious little friends who always greet us on the streets. There are several groups of children who cling to us as best friends. We saw three separate groups on the way home today. As soon as they see us their faces beam with smiles that stretch from ear to ear. They sprint toward us and leap to give us running hugs. Their little voices joyfully proclaim, “bondu! bondu!” which means, “friend! friend!”.
    The first group consisted of three children. Only one boy decided to follow us as we walked. His shirtless chest was a beautiful brown speckled with mud. We have had serious rain the past few days and mud abounds. This little boy walked with us for nearly five minutes. He looked to be about eight years old, but he told me he was four. Somehow, there must have been a language miscommunication between us! Just as suddenly as he appeared, he rushed away, as if he reached the end of his territorial line.
    The next little group was made up of only two boys. They were standing on the side of the road just before our next crossing. I motioned to Meagan to prepare for some lovin’ because as soon as the boys saw us they would rush over. Just as I drew her attention to the boys, the littlest one, who looked to be about three, tugged his pants down and started doing his business on the side of the road. The older one picked that moment to notice our approaching presence. He urged his little companion to quickly finish his duty because they needed to come see us. Our time with these two little guys was rather short because they didn’t cross the road with us. We exchanged a few friendly greetings, smiles, and questions and then parted ways.
    Our final group of friends was the biggest. We were about five minutes from home when we saw this last group of children. There were probably about five children ranging in age from a few months old to around nine years old. They were all squatting on the side of the road looking at the ground. I am not sure what they were doing. One little boy noticed us and quickly started shouting in his loudest voice for all the others to come greet us. The little swarm rushed over and we welcomed them with smiles, hugs, and hand holding. All the children on the street ask us for money. We usually buy them fruit, on special occasions we buy them fruit AND candy. Today we didn’t have money so we told them, “Not today, another day.”
    All the little munchkins left except one small boy. He quickly became my favorite. This little guy was probably only six years old. He latched on to my hand and strolled right along side me as if he didn’t have a care in the world. His face was overcome with a beautiful smile and he looked up at me as we walked. I asked him what his name was, how old he was, and how he was doing. He cheerfully answered and asked me the same questions, minus the age, which I think he could care less about. He had a bright yellow button up shirt, but it was not buttoned so it flapped open exposing his cute little tummy. One boy called for him to return, but my little buddy refused to acknowledge the command, so the other boy joined us on the walk. The older boy looked to be about eight and he had a baby on his hip. The eight year old kept asking for a mango, rice, an apple, etc. I smiled and said, “Where will I get them?” We were not by any stores. I said I didn’t have any with me. He just smiled and said, “Another day?” To which I assured him that we would buy him an apple another day.
    My little guy ignored the questions and just joyfully walked with me, continuing to hold my hand the whole way. We reached our house and the darwan (guard) opened the door. My little buddy started to walk in with us. He was so cute! I told him I had to go, but I would see him later. The darwan kept saying, “later, later later!” and the boys reluctantly said goodbye. I just love them!
    If only you could walk the streets of Chittagong with me! Your feet would be covered in mud this week. The rains caused major flooding yesterday. One of the fathers came to pick up his girls from school and he was wet up past his knees because he had to walk through the flood waters. The adventures continue. Thank you for your prayers for the beautiful people of Bangladesh.