Sobre este Blog

He decidido finalmente hacer públicos mis Apuntes de Misión. Son experiencias de vida que me han marcado y que intento presentar resumidamente para hacer más ágil y amena su lectura.


SOBRE EL AUTOR
El presbítero Belisario Ciro Montoya, pertenece a la Diócesis de Sonsón Rionegro en Colombia y, asociado al PIME (Pontificio instituto de misiones extranjeras), desempeña su ministerio en Bangladesh. Ordenado diácono el 24 de junio del 2011, es sacerdote desde el 29 de octubre del mismo año.

Learning to thank

 


Although the expression “thank you” (Dhonnobad) certainly exists in the Bengali language, in Bangladesh it is not widely used by people.
There are other expressions or gestures of gratitude that replace it, but unfortunately sometimes they are too subtle or imperceptible. We frequently insist and teach the children of the orphanages of our parish in Chandpukur Mission the importance of using this and similar words.

But let's get to the point. On a cool March morning, at around 5:30 am someone knocks on my door. It was Ridoy (heart), a seven-year-old boy, orphaned by his father and whose mother works in Jordan as a housewife to help her family in Bangladesh. With his Sunday pants but no shirt he tells me: “Father, I can't go to Mass today.” And he explains to me that he has washed his clothes and they are wet and that is why he cannot go to Church. I immediately call Prodip, a boy his age who lends him one of his shirts, and I promise him that in the afternoon I will give him a new one.

 That's how it went. In the afternoon of that same day I brought two new t-shirts from the nearby market and handed them to him. His eyes shone with joy but without saying a word he walked away amidst the uproar of his companions. But the history does not end here.

The next day and at the same time, 5.30 am someone knocks on my door. I open it and discover to my surprise that it is Ridoy himself. This time he is fully dressed and smiling. I sense, however, that he wants to ask me for something more: I think that maybe he wants a pair of sandals or maybe money to buy something. But not. Approaching timidly and with a faint voice, he tells me: “Father, yesterday I forgot to tell you something: Thank you.”

 Every time I tell this anecdote (and right now when I write it) I can't help the tears in my eyes. Ridoy's “thank you” continues to fill my soul with joy and hope. His gratitude has made up for all the "thanks" that I had not received and will not receive in my entire life.

Give us Lord a grateful heart like Ridoy's, give us the grace to acknowledge every day how blessed we are. Amen