Chief Guest in Nepal

There were several moments that brought me to tears. Tears of joy and gratitude and love. The first was near the beginning. I had been to the home of Sita Tharu already, the 16-year-old Room to Read girl scholar whose home was humble, but clean. Where she lived with her brother and younger sister, but not with her mother who had died of stomach cancer, and not often with her father who worked for most of the year in India to support them.

We had flown half way around the world in a big plane, flown in a small plane to western Nepal, driven 1.5 hours north (passing through Bardiya National Park), driven to the small city of Kramala, off the paved road, and up the dirt road a few minutes. That is where the school was. But more importantly, that is where the kids were.

We stopped the car just outside of the gate, I got out, and that is when I saw all of them waiting. Not just a few students, not just a few dozen, not even just a hundred students. Sita was there, but she was just one scholar of almost Nine Hundred students who were there waiting, waiting to receive me. Waiting along-side the road to their school, with their school uniforms of light blue-green shirt and darker blue skirt or pants on. I was excited to begin to walk down this road. First, two came up with a lei of hand-picked flowers. The next gave me a single flower, which I received in my hand. I smiled back the biggest smile I could give them, and said Namaste. Left and right, more and more beautiful faces, continual exchanges of Namaste and smiles between us and flower upon hand-picked flower were given. They were young and older, from kindergarten through ninth grade. Moving slowly, my hands were soon filled up with flowers and I received a hint to hold the bottom of my shirt up like a makeshift basket, surrounded by my arms to receive more flowers. I tried to look into the eyes of each and every one of them. What seemed like forever, but was a few minutes into this slow procession and exchanges of light between our souls, this was the first time (of many) in which I felt tears of happiness. Truly the light in me greets the light in you.

This magic continued through hours of singing and dancing and music and speeches (by the school heads, Room to Read representatives, and a short one by me as well!) and dancing and ribbon cutting and more dancing. I even had a pinned-on broach labeled “Chief Guest.”

I have tears in my eyes now, remembering it all, which was now almost one month ago. This is what life is all about.