I have so much to learn about hospitality. We have a gardening Didi who helps us to grow vegetables and keeps flowers and plants around our house looking beautiful. She moves between many of our houses here around the hospital, sharing her gifts and loving us even when we have no idea what she is saying. This woman is a fast-talker (even for Nepalis, let alone us foreign preschool Nepali talkers) and she knows almost no english. Yet, she persistently tries to communicate with us and she loves us and loves our children. Yesterday she invited us for tea at her home, the room she shares with her daughter in a tiny little town a few minutes walk from the hospital.

At five o-clock, with dark and threatening skies above and rain spitting down at us, we set out for her place with the guidance of our cooking Didi who knows slightly more english and speaks nepali more slowly. We worried that our kids would be grumpy and reluctant and we worried that it would all be awkward. Our gracious host may have had worries, I don’t actually know. I do know that she invited us into her little living space with a wide smile. We sat on the floor and on the edge of her bed and she made us sweet milky masala chiya (lightly spiced tea that tastes like dessert). She served us a big bowl of snacks and Freda gobbled up little store bought cookies by the dozen (or so it seemed). As the kids drank back the tea and scarfed down her snacks, her smile just kept widening. We laughed together as the kids stood by the door and dodged the splashes of motorcycles as they hit the rather large puddle forming at her door. We felt cozy inside her little space as the rain came down outside the door. We laughed together, because we always seem to find something to laugh about even though our conversation is so limited. We laugh at our inability to understand each other, at the slapstick humour of kids, and we break bread together learning the names of new snacks. I will celebrate minor miracles today. The miracle of kids being in good moods at the same time. The miracle of being in someone’s home and feeling loved without deserving it. The miracle of communication without words. The miracle of kids who show us how to live without consciousness of class and little worry about what others think of them. The miracle of walking with umbrellas above the clouds while singing in the rain.