The sound of a massive drum was the first thing I noticed, when Juliet and I stepped out of the compact car. Each time the confident student struck the drum, the students that were lined up in neat rows facing him would expertly stand at attention then relax into the at-ease stance. With their little heads locked in position to face forward, only their curious eyes darted to appraise us, as we walked past them in flowing salwars toward their principal who stood waiting to greet us.
We were the invited guests to teach in their school. And it was very apparent by the radiant smiles on the poised faces of these well-mannered children that this was going to be a wonderful experience we would never forget.
I glanced at Juliet and realized that she, too, was barely containing her own enthusiasm, and why not? What seventeen-year-old American girl gets to teach alongside her mother in India?
Yes, India was our home for the next few weeks, and we were keenly aware with the sights, smells, and sounds that “home” would be different than what we were accustomed to. However, one blaring similarity remained: children are precious in His sight no matter which half of the globe they call home. Our goal was to convey that pivotal message to each student we had the privilege of serving here in this unfamiliar part of the world.