God's Grace At C-543

“One of my greatest regrets,” my eighty-six year old friend, Mr. J., confessed to me, “is that we didn’t have more children. I bought into the notion that our country is over-populated and that it would be better for us as a nation, as well as for each family, if we everyone had fewer children. We terminated a couple of pregnancies which, now, I realize was a mistake.”

In the Indian society nothing is more important than family. Almost every Bollywood movie has a family theme – father/son conflicts, daughter-in-law/husband difficulties, etc. The largest segment in the Sunday paper is the matrimonial section where want ads are placed by parents looking for suitable partners for their son or daughter. Daily there are news reports of daughter-in-laws that have either committed suicide or murdered because of dowry demands; female infanticide is common. Family in the Indian society is not just the outgrowth of a biological union, it’s the heart and soul of their very existence.

The J’s had two children, the eldest a daughter, the second born a son. As in many developing countries, daughters are not as “prized” as sons. The girl, in reality, is a bit of a burden to the social framework. Dowry, the system where the family of the girl pays the family of the boy to get married, is a hardship for the poor. When a girl does get married she basically leaves her father and mother’s family and becomes a part of the husband’s family. To be quite honest, a girl is a liability.

Having a son is like stock and bonds. The boy will contribute to the family unit economy throughout his lifetime and even in marriage will add to the household workforce. In Mr. J’s thinking he was doing the right things by not having more children after their son was born…he had contributed to society as a whole, plus his son insured him security in his old age, or so he assumed.

When my wife and I met the J’s we didn’t realize we were the first tenants to live in their deceased son’s apartment. Tragically, their son died of leukemia five years before. The daughter-in-law and grand-daughter moved out (according to her, asked to leave) a few months after his death. The apartment remained empty and each December 5th held a puja (Hindu prayer service) for their son.

Overtime in my conversations with Mr. J. I gained insights into his worldview as it relates to the death of his son. He partly blames his daughter-in-law for his demise, as superstition by some in that culture accuse the widow for the source of misfortune. Mr. J. believes he is probably the reason of his son’s death and suggests it is the sins of his former life as the reason the god’s took his only son.

Because our friendship has grown over the years, I have become almost a surrogate son to Mr. J. Certainly not in a legal or financial sense, but my visits with him each evening provide a solace for a lonely old man who is dying without much family. Though Mr. J. does not know the God I know and often speaks harshly of a God who would make him suffer, I marvel at God’s grace on my dear friend. Knowing that it is the goodness of God that draws people to Himself, there is a reason I dwell on the first floor of C-543.