EDITORIAL NOTE In this two-part true story, an orphan boy begging in an Indian train station is rescued by a local church leader, who offers him a new name and a new life in Jesus.
I don’t know exactly how old I am. I don’t know where I was born or where my parents lived. I don’t know whether I have brothers or sisters. I can’t remember much except living on the train platforms and on the trains with some other boys who had no home.
Every day we waited on the train platform for a train to stop. Then we scrambled to help people with their luggage, so they would give us a few rupees to buy rice or tea. Sometimes we sneaked on board the trains and climbed up to the top sleeping bunk near the ceiling, where the train guard would not find us. We could sleep there, safe and warm. If the train started moving while we were sleeping, it did not matter. We would just get off the train when it stopped. We had no home, so home was wherever we were at the time.
A NICE MAN
One night when I was about seven years old, an older boy on the platform offered me a cigarette.
“Here, try this,” he said. I did not want to take the cigarette because it smelled bad. I knew that the smoke would make me cough, so I said no. The boy kept trying to make me take the cigarette. He kept telling me how good it tasted and how smoking would make me forget how hungry I was. While I was pushing the boy’s cigarette away, a man came up to us and asked the older boy why he wanted me to smoke. The bigger boy said smoking was nice, but the man said it was bad for us.
Then the man asked my name. I told him my name was Laxman. He said his name was Mr. Raj.
“Where do you live?” Mr. Raj asked me. I told him I did not have a home. “Where are your parents?” he asked with a worried look on his face.
“I don’t know,” I said. “I have been living on train platforms for as long as I can remember.”
A NEW LIFE?
The man looked at me for a minute, and then he said, “Would you like to go home with me? I have two children about your age, and you can play with them and go to school.”
I was not sure. I did not know this man, and I had heard stories about people taking children away and making them slaves. But the man had said he would send me to school. I knew that some children could read, but not one of the kids living on the train platform knew how to read. I thought for a little while, and then I decided to go with the man.
He brought me something to eat, and while I enjoyed some hot food, he bought me a ticket to his home. I told my friends goodbye and climbed onto the train. They stared at me as we stepped onto the train. I did not look back at my friends as the train began to move.
I thought to myself, This is great! I can ride in a seat on the train. I do not have to hide. The countryside flew past as darkness settled across the rice paddies beside the railroad tracks. As nighttime came, my eyes grew heavy. I fell asleep.
A NEW START
I woke up as the train slowed and stopped at a station.
“We are here,” Mr. Raj said, and we got up and walked to the train door. I followed him out of the train and across the platform to a waiting bus. I saw some boys trying to earn rupees, but I did not stop. I followed my new friend onto the bus and sat down.
Soon the man said we were at his bus stop. We climbed down from the bus and crossed the road. We walked through a gate into an area with many buildings. Some looked like houses, and as we started toward one of them, my new friend Mr. Raj told me he lived there.
He stopped outside the door and called to his wife. He told her he had a guest. She came outside and greeted me with a smile, though I think she was a little surprised. Mr. Raj told her that he had brought me home so I could attend the orphanage school.
I was not sure. I did not know this man, and I had heard stories about people taking children away and making them slaves. But the man had said he would send me to school.
AN UNWELCOME BATH
Mrs. Raj told me to wait at the door, and she hurried inside. Soon she appeared with a large pan of hot water and a cloth. She took off my clothes and made me sit down in the water. Then she washed me from head to foot. I did not like that! My skin had sores all over, and though she tried to be gentle, it hurt when she washed them. She told me that I would feel better when I was clean, and she was right.
Then she gave me some of her son’s clothes to wear and showed me her son’s room, where I would sleep. I had never slept in a bed before, so that night I slept on the floor. I remember looking at the pictures on the wall and thinking this must be the nicest house in the world! I yawned and fell asleep, and before I realized, it was morning.
I looked around, confused. Then I remembered that Mr. Raj had brought me to his home the night before. I could smell something cooking, and it made my stomach growl. Soon Mrs. Raj called everyone to eat—Mr. Raj and their two children. She offered many different foods, but all I wanted was rice and tea. My stomach was not ready for fruits and vegetables, so I ate a lot of rice.
A NEW HOME, A NEW NAME
After breakfast Mr. Raj opened a big book and read some words I did not understand. Then he told me that he was going to pray. Everyone folded their hands and closed their eyes, and Mr. Raj talked to someone I could not see. I wondered where the family idol was; I could not see it.
After prayer, Mr. Raj told me that we were going to meet a woman who would take care of me and enroll me in school. I suddenly felt shy, but I followed him out the door and down the path toward a building surrounded by trees.
We walked into an office, and a kind woman greeted us. She bent down and asked my name. I felt shy again, but my friend encouraged me to tell her my name. I told her, “My name is Laxman.”
The woman smiled and patted my shoulder. “From now on you will be called Timothy,” she said.
I let the sound of the name bounce around in my head. I liked it. Timothy. I was Timothy.
The woman at Sweet Home orphanage said I should call her Mother. So I did. She looked like a mother, kind and smiling. She took me to a room where there was an empty bed. She gave me some toothpaste and a toothbrush, a little piece of soap, a towel, some fresh clothes, and a pair of slippers to wear, and showed me a metal box in which I could keep my things. I had never had so much stuff before! I felt rich!
I liked Sweet Home orphanage, but I missed Mr. Raj and his family. One day after our play time, Mother came to find me in my room. I was not there. She searched the room, looked under my bed, behind the house. She called, “Timothy! Where are you?” but I did not answer. She asked the other children about me, but no one knew where I was.
I was not lost. I had gone to Mr. Raj’s house to play with his children. But when Mr. Raj returned home and found me there, he told me that I had to go back to the orphanage. He told me that I must never leave without telling Mother where I was. I tried to obey, but it was hard; I wanted to spend time with my friends.
TIME FOR SCHOOL
One day, Mother said that it was time to enroll in school. I was eager to go to school and learn to read, but I was afraid at the same time. Mother assured me that everyone was starting a new school year together. That made me feel better.
Mother gave me a pencil to take to school, and a boy showed me to my class. I felt shy, so I stood at the door and watched for several minutes. When the teacher saw me standing there, she came and put her hand on my shoulder.
“What is your name?” she asked.
“Timothy,” I said as bravely as I could. She showed me an empty chair at a big table, and I sat down at my table. She started talking to me. Pretty soon I had forgotten I was new and different. School was fun!
A week later my teacher told me that she was promoting me to the next class.
“You know your alphabet already, and we think you will enjoy being in the advanced class,” she said. I was glad that my teacher thought I was smart enough to go to the next class. I walked into the class and found an empty seat. This time I was not shy; I was ready for school to start!
I made lots of friends at the orphanage. We played volleyball, cricket, and kabaddi, a favorite game among Indian children, especially boys. I had never had time to play games when I lived at the train station. I decided that school was a great place to be, and Sweet Home was a great place to live. I had twenty-eight brothers and sisters at Sweet Home. It took me a little while to learn all their names.
Children at Sweet Home had jobs to do after school every day. We washed our clothes and cleaned our rooms. I was the youngest of thirteen boys, but the bigger boys were kind to us younger boys. They did not make us do their work. They taught me how to wash my clothes, brush my teeth, and comb my hair. And sometimes they taught us how to behave in school. I learned to read and write, to color and recite. But my favorite subject was Bible. We listened to Bible stories and learned Bible verses. Each morning we had worship and sang songs about Jesus. Mother gave each of us a Bible, and I loved reading about God.
I was happy. I had a great home, attended school, and had a lot of friends. I never wanted to go back to live on the train platform. I even went to Mr. Raj’s house less and less. Everything seemed right with the world.
The woman smiled and patted my shoulder. “From now on you will be called Timothy,” she said. I let the sound of the name bounce around in my head. I liked it. Timothy. I was Timothy.
In part 2 in our next edition, young Timothy decides he will run away from the only home he has ever known.
TIMOTHY PATRICK ROANE is a theology professor at Flaiz Adventist College, Narsapur, Andhra Pradesh, India.
