Summer 2010

As if we were happy for no reason

I am happy that clouds are travelling in the sky
And that there is rain, hail, frost and snow.
I am also happy in the green season
When dog roses and elders bloom.
That merles pipe their song and bees hum about.
Red balloons are flying high into the blue.
That sparrows chatter. And fish keep quiet. 

I am happy that the moon is high in the sky
And that the sun goes up every morning.
That autumn follows after the summer and spring after the winter,
I surely like it. There is a meaning in all this
Although the smart ones may not see it.
You cannot understand everything with your head.
I am happy. This is the sense life gives me.
And most of all I am happy that I am.

In me, everything is clean and serene;
The hall is spick and span. The fire is made up.
These are the days you can step up the ladder
Leading us from earth to heaven.
A day when man is able to love their neighbour
As they are told to do - because they love themselves.
I am happy that I never fully get used to
beautiful things and wonders.
That things remain a surprise, and new!
I am happy that I … that I’m happy.

Original in German by Mascha Kaléko

To have a purpose
Is the highest power
In man’s life.

Viktor Frankl

Dear Friends of our Shanti Family,

On 15 July, Shanti reached its 18th year of age – this is a very special date for us here in Germany – it also means “of full and major age“.
It seems like a miracle to me what were able to develop with all your help in this period!
I do not only mean the external growth of Shanti, from a single tiny health station to a centre of multiple designs for people in need. (I allow myself to enclose our flyer for you to get an immediate overview).
What I rather want to tell you is what again and again fills me with joy and almost incredible surprise: that all of your help has done so much for so many people!

Krishna Maji and his family

Krishna Maji came to us as one of Shanti’s first patients (Krishna is a very frequent name in Nepal). For years he had lived on the riverside as a beggar when I found him. He had no fingers anymore, and even some of his toes were gone due to leprosy.
What should we do with him at our place, or he with us? It appeared to be too boring to wait for the next meal the whole day long. Surely he would be capable of something that would give his life a little more meaning?
So I thought of the hand-made Nepalese paper which I had already been enthusiastic about for a long time. It was true that Krishna Maji had no fingers, but we could certainly use a piece of Velcro to attach a loop to the printing block in which he would be able to insert his remaining maimed hand? He could manufacture colourful gift paper from the paper.
We tried, and we had wonderful success; so Krishna Maji became our first printer.