I admitted to Sister Tina my fears of not giving enough, though I didn't articulate it this way–my fear that I do everything too selfishly.
And she said that you have to go for yourself.
And Amitava said that we will feel we aren't doing anything because what we are doing is so little sacrifice for us, though it means a great deal to those with whom we will work. Think what someone going halfway around the world to play games with her will mean to a street girl in Kolkata who has no family, for whom few people have sacrificed anything.
[For juxtaposition, the third day of service:]
It was a Muslim Holiday–no school. I look through my Outlook magazine with a little huddle of girls who know the movie star who is advertizing for Ford on the inside cover.
We play a game that could be named "hide aunty," and which entails my being dragged to dark corners and stair wells by eager eight year-olds, instructed "head down, head down" and sat upon so that my body cannot be seen by whomever is hunting for me.