“Are you from Jesus?” the question startled me when I was busy distributing rice to a group of migrant workers in a corner of Panaji, capital of Goa. I was there as a social worker, not a Catholic nun lest someone might misinterpret my act of charity as a facade for religious conversion. ‘So, they have finally realized my identity,’ I thought and steeled myself to face the consequence. I turned around slowly to see a semi clad man, covered in mud, with wonder on his face. My fear vanished and I blurted out, “Yes.” The man, a Hindu, said he had heard that people of Jesus did good things for others. He was among hundreds of daily wage laborers engaged in road widening works in Goa. I had noticed them at several places in Goa where I was posted until April this year. ShacksPeople flock to Goa, a prosperous state because it has high demand for labor. The construction industry has absorbed most of them. The migrants now form nearly 35 percent of Goa’s 1.45 million people. However, what caught my attention was that the way the laborers walked to their work place. They carry kitchen utensils and firewood on their heads and little children on their side. The entire family reaches the worksite around 8:30 am returns to its temporary shelter at dusk. As they became a familiar sight I wanted to reach out to them in some way. And Christmas offered an excuse to concretize my plan. Every year around Christmas, my congregation, the Daughters of St Paul, organizes programs for neighborhood children cutting across all religions. In fact, the entire neighborhood becomes a community of one religion during Christmas. Goa’s migrant laborers were strangers to us. All we knew was that they came from other Indian states. So, we were a skeptical how they would receive us in view of the anti-missionary propaganda prevailing in India these days. Deep inside, I believed that if we sincerely try to share Christ’s message with others, God would clear our way. Another inspiration was Pope Francis’ call to “wake up the world” and become “Witnesses of Joy of the Gospel” in the world. So, one day, along with a neighbor I visited the workers. We set out on a scorching midday because that was the only time the neighbor was available. We found a few workers relaxing after lunch under a tree on the side of a road. They were friendly and one directed us to a cluster of shacks a little far away. We wanted to avoid the workers’ supervisors as we suspected they would stop us from meeting their people. In the shacks, we found only a few women and men. As we struggled to explain our intrusion and to introduce ourselves, a woman took charge of the situation. We explained to her why we had come. She told others about the charitable works Christians do for the poor. I asked her if she really knew what we wanted to do. She said emphatically, “Yes. I know.” So, God had walked before us. Our fear disappeared and we became happy. On our way back, we wanted to avoid the supervisors, but one of them came forward and said, “These are only a few people. You will find many more here in the evening.” As we opened the car someone asked, ‘Would you bring some clothes for our children?” The query came from frail sari-clad woman clad standing under a tree with two little children. I promptly said, “Yes. We will,” although I had no clue how and where I would get clothes. Cloth distribution is not part of our congregation’s work. The Daughters of St Paul Sisters undertake evangelization through the communication media. Most of us are engaged in distributing value-based books and audio-visual materials in schools and media centers across India. Days passed and we were caught up with other works at the Christmas time. But I could not forget my promise to that woman. When I reminded our community animator, she said: “We will give them one meal and nothing more. We have no time for anything else.” I knew without the community’s backing I could do nothing. So, I left everything to the same God who had inspired me to reach out to those people. And God intervened. The animator said one day: “We will go to meet the migrant workers with some sweets.” That was the beginning of a challenging yet satisfying mission. Meanwhile the word had gone out to our neighbors that the sisters wanted clothes for poor children. We collected clothes and money in two days and went to the shacks. That was just to see how the migrant laborers would react to our presence. We went to a hut with walls made with plastics sewed together under a tin roof. A few utensils were arranged in row on the sides of a mud floor. They spread a plastic sheet on the floor to welcome us. When we hesitated they spread a shawl over the plastic sheet. We sat down with them to chat. We heard someone saying, “Christians are like that. They help others.” That remark reminded me that we are the message and the messengers of Christ. We are his feet and hands in the world. As we became friends with the workers, we found out that they had come from Karnataka and Bihar
states. Since they are always on the move they cannot enroll their children in school. Most children aged between 3 and 5 are with the parents on the roadside and are covered with dust through the day. They roam around on the site under the scorching sun. As the work area was far from their shacks, they carried all they need for preparing meal to their work site. They collected firewood and water from wherever they could get them. They cooked and ate on the road side. The sweets we had brought were not enough, so we comforted the children saying, “We will come again.” We visited them four times with sweets, bread and rice and clothing. Every time the workers impressed us with their patience and gentle behavior. Each one was concerned about the other. We found them more relaxed on Sundays. So we organized games for the children and give them gifts. It was on the day of rice distribution that I heard the startling question: “Are you from Jesus?” We understood that our message has gone across. We wanted to convey the love and mercy of Jesus and they have recognized it. As they are illiterate, they could not read the Bible we gave them. However, they could read the gospel message we carried through one act of serving meals. “Whatsoever you do to the least of my brethren you do it to me.” Despite their dreary existence, the workers had no complaints. They had accepted their way of living. So, they had smiles on their faces. They bubbled with life. “Joy and contentment is an inside job,” I said to myself as I said good bye to them to take up my new assignment in Nagpur.