The Beggar (A second piece)

Well, in order for this next blog to make sense, you'll have to go back to December 5th, 2006 to see a piece called "The Beggar." It is a small story that I have started writing. I eventually got back to it and wrote another little small piece. If you can, go back and read the first piece and then fast forward to below:

My first reaction was to deny her assessment of my poor faith. I wanted to tell her that she was wrong and not because she was wrong, but because how in the world could she know what my heart was telling me about this India? I was flabbergasted and what’s more, incapable of fibbing. My heart began to speak its pain:

Of course I have no faith; look at this place! There are poor people everywhere! The children are not protected and given a fair shot at education. The buildings, they are eroding and not because of age, but because of dirt. There is dirt everywhere! Tiny little particles that spend all day being kicked up on top of each other, hoping for the opportunity to be kicked up so high that they can float to your nose and clog your sinus system.

I have had it with this dirty place. And when I drive along, I can tell. You all have had it too. But you don’t show it in a way that let’s me know you’re ready to fight for better. You all look as if you’ve given up. And it tears me apart. I have no faith because even though I look at you and see Indian, and you look at me and see American, we are all one and the same. There is little difference from who we are other than where we’re born. And what pains you, pains me because I have to witness it. That’s why I have no faith.”

“We are not the same. You have no faith,” she replied again. “You see what you think you see because it is what makes sense to you. We struggle like you struggle like everyone in the world struggles. Our home is our home and we live by the rules governed by our land. Our land has dirt. We must learn how to live with the dirt. You can’t clean that which is. You can only push it aside or pretend it does not exist. But it is dirt. I may one day come back to this Earth to be that dirt. And to me, that doesn’t sadden me. That is. Faith is. You have no faith that what guides you is bigger than you or your decisions. We live by our Faith and let our faith guide us, because we know that what is meant to be will be.

“That look that you see upon our faces is not one of giving up. It’s one of acceptance that each day we live is another blessing from God. And each day we see the dirt and feel the dirt is another day that God has blessed us with life. If the dirt irritates your skin, wash it off. That’s it! Nothing profound. You want the dog out of your way, then shoe it away. But don’t be mad at the dog for existing. You are angry. I believe you are angry because you have no faith. I come to you begging for change. And instead of being happy to have the ability to give, you are angry to have been bothered by a beggar. Why is that so? I must live like you must live. We must live together. Yet you speak of you and me being one and the same, but you deny me my existence by frowning upon it as if I should not exist. Why is that so?”

“I didn’t say you shouldn’t exist. . .”

“And your mouth didn’t have to, your eyes said it. It is the look of contempt. You want to help, you want to encourage. But you cannot give out what you do not believe. We need people to show us the faith, not 5 piece rupees for food. Each human that gives to another human is showing the faith and in the end, that’s all we can ask for."