The only thing keeping me from wallowing in my misery right now was Hannah. Experiencing India through her eyes was like a breath of fresh air. Everything was new and exciting to her, from drinking from a coconut to having our cloth napkins at the table be in the shape of a swan. She was adorable, my own little personal sunshine.
I was fighting the depression that threatened to swallow me under. I’d suffered bouts of it off and on ever since my mother was murdered. Sometimes it lasted months, sometimes only weeks. When it hit, I had to tell Chloe to lighten my scheduleat work, and Jason took on a heavier load. Everything was harder then: getting out of bed, showering, making dinner. I just wanted to do nothing during those bouts. It was like the darkness tried to hold on to me forever, but I always made it out. It was hard to live when you hated yourself, but I kept going because that’s what my mother would have wanted.
Right now, I wanted to go back to the hotel, crawl under the blanket, and sleep for a week, avoiding my phone and ignoring the world—but Hannah was here. This little ball of sunshine on the seat next to me happily pointing out every single cow or stray chicken we saw on our drive to the orphanage kept me going.
I usually made a point not to go to these things. Chloe was always going in my honor. I didn’t want praise—I gave money to poor people, big deal. It didn’t make me a good person. I mentally prepared myself for all of the thank-yous, and God-bless-yous I was about to receive as the car pulled up to the orphanage.
Jack Marrow House for Kidswas written on a giant sign at the end of the road. Had Chloe done that? I never would have approved my name to be on this thing. I blushed as Hannah excitedly peered over at me.
“We’re here!” She was practically jumping in her seat.
This girl’s mother had cancer, yet she still was like a little golden retriever puppy, smiling and bouncing with energy. I adored her at that moment.
As the van pulled up to the large stucco house with giant wooden double doors, a flood of about twenty girls ran out to greet us, ducking under the big red ribbon that had been placed there ceremonially. They were all smiling and waving, and my heart clenched in my chest at the sight.
They looked clean and well cared for, part of what I had donated to. I hadn’t just bought fifty houses in India. I’d set them up for life. I’d donated a water well for each one and sentmoney for books, schooling, clothes, medical care—whatever they needed.
I glanced at Hannah to see her beaming as a small tear cascaded down her face.
Asha opened the car door, and we stepped outside.
“Jack!” the children cried out happily as they descended on Hannah and me. Their accents were thick, so it sounded more like Shack or Joc or something in between.
“Namaste.” I bowed to them, and all the girls, ranging from four to fourteen, burst into giggles. I’d probably said it wrong. “This is my friend Hannah.” I touched Hannah’s shoulder to convey my message.
“Anna!” The girls moved on to her, completely forgetting the H in her name. They reached out, touching her hair and giggling as Hannah grinned at them and allowed them to play with her blonde tresses.
It was such a special moment that I had to take a picture. I pulled out my phone and snapped a shot so quickly that I didn’t think she realized.
“Jack.” Asha called me over. “This is Dev and Priya. These are the girls’ house parents. They will live here and take care of them, make them meals, and see to their daily needs.”
An older Indian couple in their forties dropped to the ground and touched my feet, bowing their heads to the dirt.
“Oh,” I said, surprised. “No need to do that.”
“It’s our custom,” Asha told me. “They are very grateful for your help in giving these girls a life off the streets.”
Emotion clogged my throat again, and I wondered how quickly we could build another fifty houses. Or five hundred. Whatever it would take to get every child off the streets across the entire world. Did I have enough money for that? Probably not, but I could make a decent dent. I’d have to ask Chloe.
The couple stood and then started speaking rapid-fire Hindi or whatever language was their mother tongue, and I looked at Asha.
“They are very grateful for your generosity and wish that God would bless you greatly in return.”
Hannah stepped up beside me, smiling as a few of the little kids were hanging on her, one holding her hand. She’d already made friends; I wasn’t surprised.
“Oh, tell them they are very welcome,” I said.
Hannah’s eyes roamed all over the place, looking at the water well, the front yard, the big red ribbon, and the balloons in the entryway of the home.
Asha pulled out the scissors. “Shall we?” she asked, handing them to me.
“Hannah, you want to cut the ribbon?” I asked her.
She shook her head. “This is your blessing, Jack. You do it.”
Myblessing. I’d never thought about it like that.
Reaching out, I cut the ribbon, and all the girls ran inside, screaming in joy. The entryway to the home was tiled, and they all gathered around a dining table that had been pulled off to the side.
