Land of Grace

It wasn’t noon yet, but the air was stiflingly hot and humid. I was sweating profusely. Every single wind that blew carried a pile of dust that forced my eyes to squint. I walked along the banks of a railway track, where the semi-permanent houses were built from sheets of boards and covered under thin metal roofs. Several men were idly playing cards at the front of a house. Plastic debris dump was left afloat in a puddle of dirty water where a group of kids playing nearby. Two dirty dogs were sniffing over a heap of kitchen sewage. All colors were grey and bleak.

I wasn’t lost. It was just another side of Phnom Penh with no tourist attractions. Non-residents would hardly find enough reasons to visit this place. Years ago, it wasn’t easy to find motor-taxi drivers who would drive to that place at night. It was just an unusual trip I wouldn’t forget.

I came to an alley where a two-story house stood on a piece of narrow land. Dozens of barefoot children with the most joyful expressions I’ve ever seen were running at the front of the house. Their faces glowed with excitement as if they didn’t care with their dirty clothes and the snot that was dripping down their noses. I couldn’t resist the joyful feeling when they tried to cling on my cloth and called me “hello” – noticing I was a stranger. A teenage girl rang the bell, and the children ran into the house to start the class with cheering voice.

A slim woman with black long hair greeted me. Her eyes shone with compassion.

“Welcome to my shelter”. Ayling shook my hand and took me inside.

The free of charge-clinic room was packed with elderly and coughing noise. I was helping a volunteer doctor when I saw a young mother in her over-sized cloth carried her malnourished baby. Her elder daughter stood beside her, looked thinner than her actual age.

“Her husband left her for not giving him sons. It’s been two weeks that we’ve provided milk for her baby”. Ayling tickled the little baby who giggled back.

"What makes you love them so much?"

"They make me grateful of everything I have."

I looked around and saw faces of people who have sustained through life hardship.

“What keeps you going, Ayling?”

She paused for a while. “Our strength has limit, but it is grace that keeps us going.”

A girl ran out of the class and pleaded to sit on my lap. Faintly in the distance, I heard the children sang in Khmer language "God is good, all the time ..." Suddenly, I started to count all the blessings I had.