The following is an excerpt from a letter written to me by my father while I was serving my mission in 1993. At the time, my father was an officer in the U.S. Air Force and was stationed, along with the rest of my family, on the island of Guam. My father was working as a mishap investigator for the Air Force’s Pacific region and this letter relates some experiences he had during a trip to India leading a team investigating an aircraft accident there.

After this letter, I have included additional letters between my father and other individuals which continue the story he first tells in his letter to me. In the interest of privacy, I have removed all personally identifying information from each of the letters.

6 Aug 93

Andersen Air Force Base
Yigo, Guam 96929
USA

Dear __________

Here it is already the 6th of August and I’m going to try and get a good start on the continuing saga I started with your last letter. I have been incredibly busy since I came back to Guam from India and just don’t have the breaks during the day at work like I used to when I could add a page here or there or start another letter.
…

When I left off in the story last time I was just getting on the train in New Delhi, India for the two hour train ride to Agra on a day trip to see the Taj Mahal.
…

Finally, right on time, the doors of the train were closed and we pulled out of the station. … Later, I asked our guide if people were allowed to ride on the top of the trains and he said no, but that it was almost impossible to stop them since the poor couldn’t possibly afford to pay for tickets but they still had to travel about. He also mentioned that there were an awful lot of deaths and injuries from falling off the moving train, and it doesn’t surprise me since the trains were whizzing along at 60+ mph with the people sitting out in the open on the top and being jostled as the train swayed on its tracks.
…

Eventually, we arrived in the city of Agra.
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When we left on this day trip I knew I’d be gone the whole day to Agra and that I wouldn’t be able to get to a bank or anything, so I had changed about $40 into 10 rupee notes and put them into my shirt pocket so that I could reach in and pull out a 10 rupee note whenever a beggar asked or if I saw someone that needed help. As I think I mentioned in my last letter, 10 rupees is only about 30 cents but represents a lot of money in India. It was just as well that I started with so many rupees since there were beggars everywhere and once they saw you hand money to one of them they all pressed to get near you.

Honestly, it couldn’t have been too different for the Savior when he was pressed by crowds. I’m sure the people looked much like these ones and they were all jockeying for position with each other trying to get closer. Still, there was a level of reserve as if the people knew they could only go so far. They could be very insistent, but at the same time, held back a little. It’s very hard to explain.

Once we reached the car and got in and the driver started to move, the crowds died down and I suppose went back to wait for another likely candidate. For the rest of the day we were pretty much left to ourselves and very few people approached us, with a few exceptions that I will explain later.

We drove straight to the Taj Mahal, that was about five miles from the train station, as I recall.
…

Except for the abject terror occasioned by the chauffeur’s crazed approach to his duties, it was all quite pleasant, as nuts as that might sound. …

At length we arrived at the entrance to the Taj Mahal.
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When we finally finished the tour of the Taj Mahal we were met by our driver at the outer gate. How he knew when to come and meet us will remain one of the great mysteries. He drove up just as we appeared from behind the gate and we all got in and proceeded to the next sight. This time we were driven to Agra Fort. A large fort built by the Khans and embellished by the British during the colonial period. Today it is simply a tourist spot. We were dropped off near the entrance gate and proceeded up the walk. A little beggar boy came up to me as I walked along and I gave him 10 rupees. I didn’t look closely at him, but caught his eye and smiled and he smiled back. There was going to be a lot more to do with this boy but that was a little in the future and I didn’t know it at the time.
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At the end of the tour of the fort we headed back out the same way we came in and as we walked out the same little beggar boy was there and came over and held out his hand. He was a little taller than my waist and very dark skinned. He was also thin as a bone. I noticed that his little arm was only about as big around as my thumb. My heart went out to him and I gave him another 10 rupees which he gladly accepted with a smile then caught my eye and motioned for me to look at his feet. I was shocked to see that they were both literally the size of footballs. His little toes were also huge, and his feet were so swollen that his toes were attached at odd angles to the rest of his feet and didn’t appear to be functional any longer. He seemed to be able to get around by sort of rocking on his feet. I was so taken aback and it was so unexpected that I just stood there for a minute. I reached into my pocket and took out a 50 rupee note from the back of the roll of bills, then also handed him another 10 rupee note, which he seemed very happy to receive. The car was leaving and they were waiting for me so I said some kind words to him and departed, only by then I was beside myself with a combination of shocked amazement and irritation that no one that knew how to get help in this city was seeing that this boy got it.