Last August I was studying my Bible and came upon a passage that changed my life. It was in Matthew, Chapter 22. Starting at verse 36 it goes something like this:
“Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?” Jesus replied: ” ‘Love the Lord your God with all our heart and with all your soul and with all your mind,’ This is the first and greatest commandment. And the second is like it: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’”
Now I had heard this many times before but that day, that peculiar day in August of last year, these words struck home with such incredible force. It was as if a bullet had ripped my heart open and I cried as I confessed to my Maker, my Boss and my Savior “I do NOT love You with ALL of my heart and ALL of my soul and ALL of my mind. “ I knew in my heart of hearts that I didn’t and I asked Him, simply and honestly what should I do – so that I could. He told me, “Go to Coimbatore, my girls there will teach you how to love.”
Now you know the reason why I came to the Michael Job Centre for Orphan Girls, Coimbatore, India, the place for the daughters of Christian martyrs. I came so that they could teach me. Will you let me share one of the love lessons they have taught me? Remember, these are girls who have struggled under horrific persecution, many watching their mothers and fathers being killed because THEY loved Jesus more than life itself. OK Here goes.
Last January, when I returned to the Centre for a second love-training semester, it was a very different place. The persecution in the Indian State of Orissa had intensified greatly. Many thousands of Christians had run into the jungle to keep from being killed by radical Hindus. Thousands had been moved into protective refugee camps patrolled by the military from the Central Government as they tried (often unsuccessfully) to keep the Christians safe. Because of this persecution, over 140 new girls had come to the orphanage. This had put an awful strain on the resources here and the staff was struggling to keep it all together.
There were so many problems. First of all there was a huge language barrier. These new Orissa orphans only spoke their local language – Oriya. So they could not communicate with the staff or other girls who spoke either English or Hindi or one of their own native Indian languages. Second, most of them had never seen a toilet, or slept in a real bed, or sat down at a table and used a plate for eating. The struggle was on to help as many as we could; as quickly as we could. Most of them were very malnourished and more than a few were suffering from a multitude of medical problems like malaria. So I got to watch as the staff and older girls lovingly demonstrated to the new frightened Christian refugees, how to adapt to this very foreign world.
This is when I was introduced to Naina. She was a young girl of 16, I believe she was the daughter of a persecuted pastor. She happened to speak both Oriya and English, so she became my interpreter, as I tried to help the new girls learn the ropes of the Centre. When I preached on Sunday at Chapel she translated into Oriya for the new ones. I tend to think that her sermons were probably better than mine but I hoped that there was some similarity in the content. 
But Naina was also very memorable for me because of her coat. You see in January in Coimbatore the nights and mornings can be cold. Well at least cold to these girls. When we walk to the Chapel at 05:20am (so we can start worshiping at 05:30) the temperature can get down into the low 60′s. Like the octogenarians in South Florida who get out mukluks when it drops below 80, for these thin girls, 64 degrees was like freezing. But Naina had a coat. It was a bright burnt orange color with fake fur around the wrists and collar. It was about 2 sizes too small (I’m not sure if she could button it) and was in my opinion one of the ugliest coats I’ve ever seen. But it was warm. It kept her warm when many, many others were cold. To me, that’s all that mattered – it kept her warm. So I watched with enjoyment, Naina staying warm in her ugly orange coat when we went to Chapel.
One morning during the announcements portion of the Chapel service, Uncle Shajan (one of the Staff at the Centre) was VERY angry. It seems Nora, one of the new Orissa girls, had left her room unlocked and all of her clothes had been stolen. This included 5 new, highly prized dresses she had just received because she was a recent arrival. He was so angry and rightfully so. He said first it was wrong to steal but then it was also just stupid, because whoever stole the dresses couldn’t wear them. They’d be found out right away. What a waste. It was a hard lesson for Nora who seemed as sad a little girl as I’d ever seen.
The next morning was especially cold. I remember shivering as I walked from the Arts and Science College building to the Chapel. I walk past the hostel where the orphans live so I always get to stroll with them at least part of the way, as we go together for worship. Most of the girls were all bundled up in thin blankets or double and triple layer sweaters. Then I saw Naina. She was cold! She wasn’t wearing her coat. Puzzled I asked her, “Hey, where’s your coat?” She gave me a shrug and a smile as an answer. That’s all I could get out of her, as she too shivered her way on to the Chapel.
Then I saw the ugly orange coat. Nora walked past me wearing it. The girl that had no clothes yesterday was warm this morning because of the willing, silent sacrifice of Naina. I quickly turned and walked a little away from the girls then. I didn’t want them to see this stupid old man’s tears as I thanked God for bringing me here, to learn this Orange Coat Love lesson. This love is-an-action-verb lesson.
From the Love student at the Michael Job Centre for Orphan Girls, the home for daughters of martyred Christians, near Sulur’s Boat Lake, Coimbatore, Tamil Nadu, India
Neighbor Tom
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