The team spent Sunday attending church at Henry's father's church in Nindra and resting at the mission. Team leader Andrew Nimick sent the following report:
The ceiling of the small church was arrayed with a burst of color patterned tissue paper array that almost appeared alive with breath as it undulated in the morning breeze from the open windows. Each window had several people peering in, smiling and waving as we were seated in a bunch on the platform. Girls from youngest to oldest sat on the left, and boys- in the same order- sat on the right side forming a natural center aisle. Music ministers would love Indian church! There is a lot of singing at every service and it is spectacular to hear tunes we are familiar with sung in Telegu. Later in the service Henry, Andrew and Marnee all shared in sort of a “cluster sermon” before we concluded.
The morning started off with Mary coming over to help the 5 ladies into their custom made Saris. Getting ready for church is a whole new experience when Saris are involved!
Henry’s father was the pastor of the Nindra church in the mid 1960s. It is a very special tradition to accompany Henry and his staff for Sunday morning worship where he spent his teen years. Going to church is a whole new experience when Henry’s boyhood church is involved! We disembarked at the entrance street off the main road and were greeted with more rose lais as two ox drawn carts pulled out, turned around, parked and awaited us. The oxen were moved off the yoke so the ladies could access the cart a little more easily, (relative term, as nothing is easily accomplished in a Sari!) then the guys took their turn loading up onto the second cart. I’m not too sure these Indian Brahma cattle were excited about having American passengers. One of the first cart’s oxen was, well, a little spirited and misguided and with the open sewer canal running just inches from the wheel, we were hoping for it to calm down quickly! After several passes under low hanging branches, the parade -including a small band- moved the 100 yards or so down the narrow, people lined path to the Nindrha church.
Henry’s father was the pastor of the Nindra church in the mid 1960s. It is a very special tradition to accompany Henry and his staff for Sunday morning worship where he spent his teen years. Going to church is a whole new experience when Henry’s boyhood church is involved! We disembarked at the entrance street off the main road and were greeted with more rose lais as two ox drawn carts pulled out, turned around, parked and awaited us. The oxen were moved off the yoke so the ladies could access the cart a little more easily, (relative term, as nothing is easily accomplished in a Sari!) then the guys took their turn loading up onto the second cart. I’m not too sure these Indian Brahma cattle were excited about having American passengers. One of the first cart’s oxen was, well, a little spirited and misguided and with the open sewer canal running just inches from the wheel, we were hoping for it to calm down quickly! After several passes under low hanging branches, the parade -including a small band- moved the 100 yards or so down the narrow, people lined path to the Nindrha church.
The ceiling of the small church was arrayed with a burst of color patterned tissue paper array that almost appeared alive with breath as it undulated in the morning breeze from the open windows. Each window had several people peering in, smiling and waving as we were seated in a bunch on the platform. Girls from youngest to oldest sat on the left, and boys- in the same order- sat on the right side forming a natural center aisle. Music ministers would love Indian church! There is a lot of singing at every service and it is spectacular to hear tunes we are familiar with sung in Telegu. Later in the service Henry, Andrew and Marnee all shared in sort of a “cluster sermon” before we concluded. We had a true Sunday day of rest. Several members were recuperating from intestinal issues and played Hearts for a big chunk of the afternoon with sporadic shouts from downstairs of “Hello Kory! What is your name?” being interjected into the card game. Some went out to visit with the children and staff. Karl and Andrew played volleyball and Stephen played Kabbadi (a game hard to describe in English but involves a lot of spinning) outside the girl’s dorm.
In the evening we walked a short distance to the new Boy’s Hostel for a dedication, complete with the ceremonial removal of the cloth over the memorial plaque (done by Daleen) and cutting of the ribbon (done by Marnee). Andrew spoke a blessing over the boys who would live there, and anointed the doors with oil.
In the evening we walked a short distance to the new Boy’s Hostel for a dedication, complete with the ceremonial removal of the cloth over the memorial plaque (done by Daleen) and cutting of the ribbon (done by Marnee). Andrew spoke a blessing over the boys who would live there, and anointed the doors with oil.
