We arrived at the gated Child Care Home and gently entered into the outdoor large patio type space. Our group leader, Suzanne Sterling was immediately greeted by a few girls as she has become a familiar face to many of them. CCH is a place where about 75 young girls live full-time and how they’ve come to the home is varied but include; mothers who are prostitutes, giving them up, not wanting them to become prostitutes; by kids being dropped off as their families are unable to care for them; and children who’ve simply been abandoned.
The founder of the home and Women’s Interlink Foundation, Aloka Mitra, a regal and radiant 74-year old woman, is known for offering care to girls and women of any age or circumstance. Later in the afternoon, I was fortunate to meet her and she sincerely wanted to connect with us from OTM. As she shook my hand and welcomed me, she gently touched my face-a pure sign of warmth and affection, a quality that is so needed with this population of young girls. You could see she was the respected and loved matriarch.
Throughout the morning we did yoga with the girls, taking turns leading with a highlight being a portion taught by Josh, the only male in our group. He did laughing yoga with the girls and was able to raise the pitch and intensity of the laughter as we went along. He was brilliant in being fun, loving and completely non-threatening and the girls responded beautifully to his energy.
The rest of the day was spent playing games, coloring, Mehndi (henna) taking photos (which we printed out on the spot and gave to the girls) and being with one of the budding jewelry makers. Mousumi was my “teacher” but really didn’t let me do much in the way of cutting, sanding, polishing or stamping the metal. However, I did watch her craft out a piece just for me…a heart with “Mousumi & Free” stamped onto it.
As our 3 o’clock departure neared, we began saying our good-byes. The entire day had been filled with many hugs and moments of hand holding, a search for connection, affection and love. One of the younger girls, likely around age 5, came to give me a hug and as I bent down, I just picked her up. Her little body simply melted into mine and I could feel my own heart not only melt, but begin to break. I just kept holding her and tears began to roll down my face with such a simple act of human connection. It was difficult to leave, wondering what the future holds for these girls. They are in a place where they are safe, given food, and when they turn 16 a chance to gain a skill as a jeweler. They are off the streets and we are part of that, but I still couldn’t let go of the feeling of wanting to do more.
How do you leave a hug behind?
