1.Monkeys

God sees, hears, and talks to us

Crashing sounds woke up Joe and Gina. Something had jumped and landed heavily on the roof, smashing the clay tiles!
“What’s happening?” Gina cried as she ran and tumbled into bed with Mom and Dad.
“I’m not sure,” Mom answered as she held the trembling seven-year-old close in her arms. Dad hurried outside to investigate.
“You won’t believe this,” he laughed when he came back. “It’s monkeys!”
“Monkeys? Here in this big city?” Joe was eleven, surprised and pleased.
“Come and see.”
Both children hurried out barefooted.
“Oh, look at that whopping big one. He must be a granddaddy!” Joe studied the animals.
“And there’s a mommy with her baby holding onto her tummy while she jumps from the tree onto our roof!” Gina giggled.
More shattering sounds erupted as a whole troop of monkeys followed their leader across the roof to the far end and then swung into the trees. They perched on limbs and began nibbling the leaves.
“Well, this is quite an introduction to India, isn’t it?” Mom laughed. “Let’s get dressed. It’s nearly noon. We all had a good sleep to catch up on jet lag. It was a long trip from the States.”
“It was great to see my brother at the airport,” Dad remarked as the family gathered in the dining room for lunch. “We’ll probably go up country tomorrow.”
“You’re right, that’s just what we’ll do,” said Uncle John as he joined them. “Today while Jane shops for food supplies, I’ll take you to see why we have so many monkeys here. Wear your hats until you get used to this weather.”
“The sun feels blisteringly hot!” Dad remarked as they started out.
“That it is. Shall I tell you what happened to your Aunt Jane one day?” asked Uncle John.
“Yes, please,” chorused Joe and Gina.
“Well, she had been to the market, and when she got home she heard a strange noise upstairs. She was scared. It might be a burglar. The windows were open and there were no screens in those days. Someone could easily climb in. She was shaking as she cautiously climbed the stairs. Very slowly she edged into the bedroom and who do you think was there?”
“Who? Who was it?”
“A great big granddaddy monkey! He was sitting in the rocking chair and gently swaying back and forth!”
“What did Aunt Jane do?” Gina frowned.
“She stamped her foot, yelled at him, and he bolted out the window as fast as he could go!”
When they stopped laughing Joe asked, “What’s that noise, Uncle John?”
“It’s the city band. We’re nearing the monkey temple.”
“Look at the balloons! They’re all shapes and sizes and colors,” Gina grinned.
“And there are four-wheeled push-carts loaded with—mmmm, candy, peanuts, sweet cakes and even ice cream!” Joe licked his lips
Families sat here and there on the ground munching snacks. Others were offering tidbits to monkeys who ate right out of their hands. A huge grey black-faced one stood on its hind legs and was nearly as tall as the man who was feeding it.
They passed a dozen raggedly dressed men sitting cross-legged in a row. “Who are these folks?” asked Dad.
“Beggars. They know people gather here and will drop money into their little bowls.”
The city band, dressed in uniforms of green trimmed with bright red sashes, played loud tunes on horns, drums and bagpipes.
People were arriving by bus, horse and buggy, taxi, car, and bicycle. Many walked several miles to participate in the weekly celebration.
A huge elephant was collecting money by reaching out its trunk. Someone placed a coin in the tip and Joe and Gina watched fascinated as the animal lifted its curved trunk up over its head. The driver sitting between its ears took the money and dropped it into his sagging pocket.
“If you want to go inside the temple you must take off your shoes,” advised Uncle John.
“We’ll do that,” Dad agreed. “Look, children, at the pictures of the monkey god. It has the body of a boy but the head and tail of a monkey. And over there is the silver-painted idol decked in flower garlands.”
“Why do the people worship this monkey?” Gina asked.
“They tell a story about one of their gods who kidnapped the wife of another god and took her to the island of Ceylon, now called Sri Lanka. To get her back, her husband called all the monkeys to come and help him. Holding onto each others’ tail they formed a bridge from the southern tip of India to the island. The god rode over the bridge in his chariot and rescued his wife. So the monkeys are honored for assisting the god.”
“What are the people praying for, Uncle John?” asked Joe.
“Some ask to be successful in their school or college exams; others pray to make money, find a wife or husband, or a good job. Some want to take vengeance on their enemies. See those offerings of rupees, cocoanuts, bananas, lemons and flowers? Worshippers give them hoping to insure an answer to their prayers.”
“But how can an idol answer prayer? It has eyes and ears and lips but it can’t see or hear or speak.”
“You’re right, Joe,” Uncle John said as they left. “The idol is not living. But our God is alive. He sees us, hears our prayers, and speaks to us through His Word, the Bible.”
Home again, Gina was glad to take a shower and wash her hair. It cooled her off. She looked in her suitcase for a shiny gold barrette. That’s funny. I’m sure I packed it. Oh, I know! I wore it to the monkey temple, and I took it off when I got back. But I don’t remember where I put it. She searched carefully but couldn’t find it, so she tied a ribbon around her curly blonde pony tail.