A Story From The Field

December 4, 2007 | by Adventures in Missions | 7 Comments | Views 0

Yarmingham

4/13/2007  By: Don Barr, Participant

A few weeks ago, I had the privilege of taking one of my good friends from the orphanage, a fourteen year old boy from the Indian state of Manipur named Yarmingham, to the hospital. He had a collision with another kid, and his thumb was slightly dislocated. After a few unsuccessful attempts to lodge it back into place, we decided to journey to the hospital. This was the beginning of a beautiful day that, for my friend Yarmingham, would be one of a few firsts. Upon hearing that he was going to the hospital, he rushed into his room to change his clothes as Wilson and I got the motorcycle prepared to go. He came outside and asked if we were taking the motorcycle. When we replied “yes” the largest smile appeared on his face. I handed him a helmet (which was a few sizes too large), we all got on, and took off. It was a joyful sight to see… two Americans and the happiest Indian boy in the world at that time cruising down the Indian road. In the middle of the ride, he leaned back to me… eyes squinted and cheeks flapping in the wind and said “Don Uncle, this is the first time I have ever ridden a motorcycle.” We arrived at the hospital where Yarmingham and I were dropped off. As we began to walk up the stairs to enter the hospital, Yarmingham did a slight double take at the elevator that was located next to them. It was a small observation that I didn’t pay too much attention to, thinking he was just stopping to read something. We continued up the stairs, checked in, and sat down in the waiting room for the doctor. We sat for a little while, talking mostly about the motorcycle ride, his home, God, and the television in the waiting room that was playing some odd Hindi pop music videos. He told me he didn’t like it, and asked me if they would either change it or turn it off. It was giving him a headache because he never watches television. There were a few seconds of silence after that, in which I was thinking about the shameful fact that most fourteen year olds that I know, including myself at that age, are constantly glued to the television, and the last thing they would ever want to happen would be for someone to turn it off. That silence was broken when Yarmingham asked me if there was an elevator in this hospital. When I told him that there was, his face lit up and he asked me if he could ride it. Now, until now I have never really thought of riding an elevator for fun. Most of my elevator experience has been quite awkward, and I have wanted to get off as soon as possible. At the time I had no objection, so I happily agreed. He gave me a huge hug and said something that caught me a bit off guard. “Don Uncle, thank you! I have never gone on an elevator before.” “What… never been on an elevator before? Let’s go then!” I think that in my excitement, I actually beat him to the elevator. As we were standing in front of the doors, he asks me “What do I do… do they open on their own?” I explained to him that when you push the button that tells the elevator that you are waiting, and it will come when it gets a chance. He hesitantly pushed it, and was quite frightened and astounded when the doors popped open. He timidly stepped in and I taught him how to operate it. Then we spent the next thirty minutes having a good ole’ time just riding up and down. The people coming in and out were puzzled as to why in the world these two were having a slight party in their elevator. But what’s a party with out refreshments… so we stopped at the ground floor to grab some soda and gum, and then back on for more riding. When we were finished we went back to the waiting room to find out that the doctor was still busy, and according to the nurses would be busy for “next long time”. So we decided to just leave, and return the following day. We left and walked back to the apartment to wait for the bus from the orphanage to drop off the rest of the team and to pick up Yarmingham to take him back to the orphanage. As we were walking and talking, he was looking around at all of the apartment complexes commenting on how tall they all were. I asked him what the tallest building he had been to the top of was. “The highest I have ever been was fourth floor.” I smiled at him thinking, “That number will change today.” When I pointed out our apartment complex as it came into view, he asked how tall our building was. “Eight floors… nine if you count going on the roof. Do you want to go?” I thought he was going to go into shock at the offer to go to the roof. “Of course!” he replied. I told him it even has an elevator as we raced to get there. We arrived in front of his second elevator, and knowing what to do he proudly pushed the button to tell the elevator that we are waiting. The doors opened up and like a professional he stepped in and pushed the number eight. The doors shut and up we went. He stared at the rising numbers telling us what floor we were on. “It is very fast” he remarked. The number eight appeared, the elevator stopped, and the doors opened. I lead the way to the stairs that went to the roof. As we were walking up I hear him comment under his breath “How great is this. Praise the Lord” We approached the door to the roof, and we pushed it open to reveal one of the most beautiful sunsets I have ever seen. I wish you could have been there. I wish everyone I know could have been there. It was perfect. The sky was a mesh of every color you can think of. The sun was half-set with the moon visible on the other side of the sky. The breeze was blowing, and we both were truly happy. We stayed on the roof for a bit just wondering at what was around us. After a few minutes, we saw the orphanage bus pulling in on the street below. We headed downstairs slightly disappointed that the day together was over, but very glad that it happened. It’s astounding how much we can take for granted in this life. I was enlightened and reminded by my friend that day everything is a gift from God and we should treat it all as such. I was encouraged that day and I encourage you now to open our eyes to recognize beautiful simplicities like elevators and sunsets that are all around us if we just look.

7 responses to “A Story From The Field”

1. Wow.. I have tears in my eyes and a big smile on my face! I can’t wait to go!!!

2. Wow! I totally know how you feel Mary. That article made me really realize just how good I do have it, and how often I take it forgranted!!! God has so richly blessed me and that story just reinforced the fact that I need to thank Him for all that He has done and is doing for me! I can not wait to go on this adventure and I am so looking forward to the new experince!

3. “sniffle” “sniffle” that was VERY touching! I just praise God for what he has given me!!

4. That article definately was beautiful, I just loved how it truly revealed the heart of a child. The article also reminded me of one of my favorite poems and I wanted to share it with out all.

   The Most Beautiful Flower

   The park bench was deserted as I sat down to read
   Beneath the long, straggly branches of an old willow tree
   Disillusioned by life with good reason to frown
   For the world was intent on dragging me down.

   And if that weren’t enough to ruin my day,
   A young boy out of breath approached me, all tired from play.
   He stood right before me with his head tilted down
   And said with great excitement, “Look what I found!”

   In his hand was a flower, and what a pitiful sight,
   With its petals all worn – not enough rain, or too little light.
   Wanting him to take his dead flower and go off to play,
   I faked a small smile and then shifted away.

   But instead of retreating he sat next to my side
   And placed the flower to his nose
   And declared with overacted surprise,
   “It sure smells pretty and it’s beautiful, too.
   That’s why I picked it; here, it’s for you.”

   The weed before me was dying or dead.
   No vibrant colors: orange, yellow or red.
   But I knew I must take it, or he might never leave.
   So I reached for the flower and replied. “Just what I need.”

   But instead of him placing the flower in my hand,
   He held it mid-air without reason or plan.
   It was then that I noticed for the very first time
   That weed-toting boy could not see: he was blind.

   I heard my voice quiver; tears shone in the sun
   As I thanked him for picking the very best one.
   Through the eyes of a blind child, at last I could see
   The problem was not with the world; the problem was me.

   And for all of those times I myself had been blind,
   I vowed to see the beauty in life,
   And appreciate every second that’s mine.
   And then I held that wilted flower up to my nose
   and breathed in the fragrance of a beautiful rose
   And smiled as I watched that young boy,
   Another weed in his hand,
   About to change the life of an unsuspecting old man.

5. Wow, Im crying! 🙂 Thanks for sharing that poem Sarah. It really touched me. And if you don’t mind, I’ll send it to some of my friends,just as an encouragement.

6. I don’t think I will ever ride an elevator in the same way again!

7. thank you for your heart.