Alison and I accomplished a lot on Saturday morning. We got our kids out at the park (the "frog park": the one with no frogs but potential to have them because it has a small area of standing water, and some grass...that you cannot walk on). We met neighbors and realized we actually know quite a few people in our community. We ate baked goods (and sold them). We made 1800 rupees (about $30).Clearly, the money wasn't the driving force.
Our little community hosted a "flea market"...which basically means you can rent a table and sell whatever you want. Alison and I baked. Pumpkin bread and cookies are kind of an oddity here. So in between the pani puri (look that up) and embroidered elephant purses, we were the sellers of exotic imports: things-baked-with-butter. Our cinnamon rolls and snickerdoodles sold quickly. Our kids found interesting caterpillars and flowers. And we felt like part of this community. Despite our uncommon goods ("Sooo, the snickerdoodle doesn't have Snickers in it?"), I dare say we didn't feel so uncommon.
I am starting to love this city. There are good many days I don't. But Saturday was a day that God gave me joy in where He's called me.
And all that butter didn't hurt.
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