my christmas with joseph - transparent plastic sheet
His name is Joseph.
We knew that two days after discovering the diary in his wooden bike box, we had to open up to look for his belongings.
He lay unconscious in the general ward of donne Hospital, in the dribs and drabs.
We saw him lying in the driveway for the first time, right next to my home in draytown, and did not dare to touch him.
He looked almost dead and barely breathed.
The flies gathered on his nostrils, which may have made him move his hands a lot of effort.
I hurried to Amma and told her that someone was lying there unconsciously and that the people at the fair were either looking at him or continuing their usual business.
She asked us to take him to the hospital immediately and we went on with the help of our friends at school.
We have been involved in local social activities and it is not difficult to organize.
Because he had severe diarrhea and his pants were all wet, we had to wash his clothes and change them for him.
Doctors know that we offer Sunday service to the poor in the general ward, who are easy to accommodate the poor.
He is too weak, just the bone hanging on the skeleton.
Apparently, he rode his bike, fixed a detachable wooden box with a bicycle back bracket, painted it with a blue hand brush, with a small tinplate hanging on his front hand, announcing, "for the sake of world peace, tour of the entire Indian cycle ".
His bike was put in my house and the man was taken to the hospital within three months
We are naturally interested in him because we are Romer people and are more interested in outdoor activities --of-
School activities are more than learning.
And pray eagerly for his recovery.
He must continue his life.
The next day, when we tried to find his address to inform his relatives, we opened his box and a shabby old one.
The diary of the blue plastic cover gave us his name: Joseph.
We guessed that he had a few pages scribbled in his handwriting, but there was nothing to tell us about his family or address.
Also found all sorts of strange balls, scarves, wooden eggs, and through a piece of paper we knew, "Oh my God, he's a magician!
"A small card printed on transparent plastic paper-Joseph, an international magician from Goa Panjim.
I can still feel the excitement and curiosity in my heart.
We couldn't sleep that night.
We all want to see him talking to us and, of course, teach us some magic.
It will be very interesting.
He must live for us.
It was the third morning when he opened his eyes.
His cheekbones were almost visible, and some of his skin wrapped it reluctantly.
His eyes were dull, a blank look, and he closed his eyes at once.
"He is too weak.
Dr. Nautiyal assured us: "It can be restored in four days . ".
We said thank you.
The doctor and God helped us.
From the next day, that is, December 20, the winter vacation has already started. in three days, we will be able to learn some magic;
We can't wait too long.
He has a family, as he told us when he was tasting the tomato soup that Amma had prepared.
But fate is cruel to him.
He lost his young son and his wife died a year later.
He is a professional magician. this is the source of his livelihood.
Frustrated, not finding anything that would hold him back
He started his show, entertained the children, and made them laugh happily with his magic tricks.
Seeing the children laugh and shoot with surprise, making him eager to live, he sees his son's face in every child. He wept.
When he described his story to us, tears flowed out of his eyes.
He looked so noble as a saint, an image of a father.
We were moved, but apart from continuing to say "Koi baat nahin, sab theek ho Jaycee (
Don't worry that everything will be fine).
"We all fell in love with him.
He has a strange charm and warmth that I can still feel.
It was a celebration when he came home.
We made a special Christmas tree for him and it looked very beautiful. this is our first Christmas tree.
If there were laddoos and mithai like Diwali, he would keep talking until we were hungry or asleep.
His magic is charming, simple and enjoyable.
We tried our hands, changed the scarf, hid the eggs in the sleeves and played card games, but he still kept the magic and we had a good time.
Christmas was there and we were all excited to go to the local church with him.
Will she let us in? I asked?
He smiled sincerely and said, "Why not, my dear son?
"But ask your Amah, will she allow us to enter the house if I change your faith in church?
I asked what this meant.
His eyes flashed and said, "I want to ask Jesus, you are my second son, that's it.
Be my son, dear?
I don't know how to answer it. I just said, "Okay, let's go . "
"Four of us --
My two friends and I
Went to a church near Dorn hospital.
This is a small church that we may have seen hundreds of times, but never thought we should go and see what's inside.
Inside the altar, there is an old picture of Jesus, there are benches in the hall, we have seen in some movies.
We prayed with both hands and closed our eyes, and I felt myself in the temple before the image of Rama.
He introduced me to the priest, and he was too gentle;
He said some sweet words and we came back.
Have you been transformed?
He said on our way back. Was that all?
Yes, now you are like Vijay, my son, and I ask Jesus, and he agrees. He was serious.
I think it's good. I replied, "Thank you, Uncle.
I'm really happy today.
"It's like visiting a temple.
Yes, he said, when I was in your house, I felt like a Hindu visiting mangosh Dev, so I also converted.
He hugged me tightly.
When my mother heard about it, she was happy and said, "nothing wrong if it makes him happy.
All the gods lead to a path.
He is the elder of all of us.
That's what Vivekananda said, I replied.
I am a regular visitor to the local Ramakrishna Ashram, our home is very close to Swami Ranganathanandaji, he is in Secundrabad those days and whenever my brother travels to the US he stays with him.
He came to dratown to give us a speech at the University of students.
He told us that vivacananda began to celebrate Christmas.
In all the Ramakrishna missions, this is a tradition that has been observed until today.
After listening to all this, my father and RSS worker laughed.
They were all impressed by Joseph's simple and affectionate behavior and helped him organize some performances, collecting a little money before he went to Ambala, Kashmir
He kept introducing us to his new experience, sweet and sour, and after a year he wrote a beautiful letter describing his entire journey from Panaji's home.
Soon I moved to Mumbai and got a job and lost contact with him.
Just a few years later, I learned from my friend in Goa that on a clear morning he was found in deep sleep and never woke up again.
Every Christmas, we remember him with deep love and worship Jesus. he has Joseph in his heart. of course, he also regrets losing contact with him in the last few days.
But it also reminds us that the boundaries we create around us are useless and meaningless.