Colds hands and warm hearts – this was my first Christmas in India.
Most days I walk through a nearby village and run into puppies playing in the street, kids taking bucket baths, vendors yelling out their goods and services, and women ringing out their laundry.
Today was different. Christmas was in the air. Children were running through the streets making decorations from simple things like paper and wood. Excitement flowed through the air along with the smells of things spicy and sweet as I walked. That night, I was met by families who were celebrating in the streets. Each greeted me warmly and offered up sweet temptations as I passed by.
While walking, I felt a tug hold me back. Behind me, children were gathered each with a smile as bright as the Christmas lights that were hung. One by one they shook my hand and in gentle voices said “Merry Christmas Auntie.”
As I left the village that night, I knew I would never forget the tender feeling I got from those cold little hands and those big warm hearts.