Operation Christmas Child

Nanny Mother told me that their family is Catholic, and occasionally spiritual.  She also told me to raise her kids however I'd want to raise my kids, and to please turn them into good, people-loving Christians.  I don't know quite how to deal with that, but it's fun to interact with the kids and to live intimately with a family outside the DTS norm.

For instance.  At dinnertime, I always ask the kids who wants to pray.  They fight about it, and Ketan inevitably starts snapping his fingers in the sign of the cross and chanting, "Father, Son, Holy Ghost--He's the one we love the most!"  At that point, Anju shrieks, "That was my prayer!  I was going to pray that!"  I assure her that God won't mind if she says the same thing, so she does.  The kids have taught me the sign of the cross, which I do before saying my own short prayer about how much I like them even when they are obnoxious.

Today at chapel someone talked about Operation Christmas Child, and boxes were available for the taking on our way out.  I had a brilliant idea!  I could fill up two boxes, one for an Anju-aged girl and another for a Ketan-aged boy.  I found some pictures of me giving boxes to kids in Senegal, and took it all to their house after school.

Nanny Mother and kids LOVED it.  Immediately Ketan slid his iTouch into the box, saying he wanted to give it to the kids in Africa.  I had to tell him his $150 toy wouldn't do much good in a place without electricity.  Undaunted, he vowed to convert all his points into allowance and use all that money to buy something for a box.  Anju agreed.  Then she disappeared, and a few minutes later came out with a hand-drawn card that she put in the box.  Ketan made origami.  Anju pulled books from her shelves that she wanted to put in, but balked at giving up her favorite, even when I told her we would probably try to buy new things anyway.

I showed them an OCC video on my phone, and hours later, Ketan sneakily slid into the computer chair.  I was about to chastise him (no technology except for Fridays), but he googled OCC and pulled up a five minute video, which both he and Anju watched rapturously.  Nanny Father came home, and the kids regaled him with their plans.

It was.  Adorable.  I can kind of see the appeal of kids, I guess?  Passing down your beliefs to younger people, hoping they will continue to love the destitute of the world after you've died.  Squinch them.