Tomorrow is the day I leave for India. As I have been collecting some final items to take and organizing things to pack, my stomach feels as though the monarch butterfly migration is passing through. I’m at once excited and apprehensive. The fact that I’ll be fulfilling a dream to be with my friend Priscilla in her homeland is thrilling. I can’t wait to see Bethania Kids Home and meet the children and the adults that work there. I can’t wait to visit Kodiakanal where Priscilla grew up and went to school. I already know in my heart I will love India and it’s multitude of people. But, the uncertainty that comes with travel makes me a little apprehensive.
My feelings have caused me to reflect on what it must have been like for Priscilla when she came to the States as a teen to attend Olivet College. It has been so many years since I first heard the story that details have sifted through the cracks in my memory. Whether her parents accompanied her or not, she was leaving the familiarity of home and friends to move to a strange new place. There were new customs to learn, new people to meet and new friends to make. Home was a long way away for her and there was no going back if she was homesick. A mother’s hug or a father’s wise advice at the moment of need, were not to be had. There was no Internet, email, Skype or cell phone with international calling capabilities. There was no texting or posting to Facebook. How did she feel? How did she cope?
To those who attended Olivet at that moment in time, you know that it became family to us all. The people, the place, the time which was Olivet wrapped each and every one of us in her arms and we felt warm and safe, happy and loved. It must have been a relief to Priscilla to realize she had come to such a place.
As I pack, I believe that I too am leaving home to go to a place that will welcome me and that I will feel warm and safe and loved, a place in which my heart will feel at home. There is no need for apprehension.
My feelings have caused me to reflect on what it must have been like for Priscilla when she came to the States as a teen to attend Olivet College. It has been so many years since I first heard the story that details have sifted through the cracks in my memory. Whether her parents accompanied her or not, she was leaving the familiarity of home and friends to move to a strange new place. There were new customs to learn, new people to meet and new friends to make. Home was a long way away for her and there was no going back if she was homesick. A mother’s hug or a father’s wise advice at the moment of need, were not to be had. There was no Internet, email, Skype or cell phone with international calling capabilities. There was no texting or posting to Facebook. How did she feel? How did she cope?
To those who attended Olivet at that moment in time, you know that it became family to us all. The people, the place, the time which was Olivet wrapped each and every one of us in her arms and we felt warm and safe, happy and loved. It must have been a relief to Priscilla to realize she had come to such a place.
As I pack, I believe that I too am leaving home to go to a place that will welcome me and that I will feel warm and safe and loved, a place in which my heart will feel at home. There is no need for apprehension.
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