The Covenant of Water

1964, Parambil

“A miracle!” Big Ammachi says as they wait for the bus home. Her hands unconsciously flutter to her earlobes, to their unaccustomed weightlessness. “I’ve prayed for a clinic at Parambil for years. Today, the Lord intervened through our Uplift Master. Not only a clinic, but there will also be a hospital at Parambil. Like the one at Vellore!”

Philipose is uncertain. “But Ammachi, it doesn’t mean that if they build a hospital, it will be in Parambil—”

“It will be!” She whips around to face him, her expression one of such conviction and resolve that he’s silenced. “We must do everything to make it so! In Parambil!”

On the bus, Mariamma studies her grandmother with pride and wonderment; she has never seen her this excited. Mariamma can’t believe what unfolded on stage, and how moved she herself was, caught up in the excitement. Those emotions are mixed up with her pleasure at seeing Lenin, who has gone overnight from boy to man, albeit a man shorn of hair. He’s almost fourteen. She saw him studying her. Her thirteen-year-old body has changed too and he was tongue-tied when he came up to greet her before the speeches began. She wonders if Big Ammachi or her father noticed.

But the convention felt different for another reason this year, one that was disturbing. When they first approached the tents and walked past the usual lengthy line of beggars, the sight had unnerved her. Her uneasiness about the crippled and maimed had lingered long after they sat down. Now, on the bus, she confides this to her grandmother.

“Before, the beggars were just there. An unpleasant sight, a bit scary, but no more than other unpleasant things one must see.”

“Ayo! Those are people, Mariamma, not things.”

“That’s my point, I suppose. This year, I really saw them as people. I was immature before. I understood for the first time that they weren’t always blind, or always lame. Maybe they were born normal like me before a disease affected them. I thought, This can happen to me! It left me frightened, shaken, long after we sat down.”

“I noticed your disquiet. But I thought it was because of our Lenin.” Mariamma blushes. Big Ammachi puts her arm around her namesake. Mariamma is so much taller than her grandmother, but she loves the feeling of her grandmother’s arm around her. “Molay, it takes a special person to see those poor beggars as human beings. Many people never notice. As though they are invisible. It speaks well of your maturity. We should be scared and never take our health for granted. We must pray and give thanks each day for good health.”

“Ammachi, when that woman near us collapsed, I was terrified. I could hardly breathe. I wanted to run. But you . . . you went right to her. I’m ashamed.”

“Chaa! What did I do except lay her down, fan her face? Don’t be ashamed.” They ride in silence for a while. Big Ammachi says, “I’ve seen more than my share of suffering and tragedy in my life, molay. I was always helpless. When your grandfather was sick, I could do nothing. When we pulled JoJo out of the water, if we had had a hospital close by . . . who knows? When Baby Mol gets ill, you know how far we go to find a doctor. That’s why I got up on stage, Mariamma. Because I don’t want us to be helpless or frightened. Doctors know what to do. A hospital can care for the sick. That’s why I want a hospital closer to our people. I’m old now, and so that’s all I can do.”

“Maybe it was better when I didn’t notice the beggars,” Mariamma says. “Now I’ll be walking around frightened that I might go blind, or get fits, or collapse like that woman.”

“Listen, she fainted, that’s all. It was hot, she may not have drunk enough water. It happens all the time. Your father sees blood and gets faint. I’ve been alive long enough that I recognize fainting.” After a while, her grandmother turns to her. “Mariamma, sometimes when you are most afraid, when you feel most helpless, that is when God is pointing out a path for you.”

“You mean like wanting a hospital close by?”

“No, I’m talking about you. Your fears. Fear comes from not knowing. If you know what it is you are seeing, if you know what to do, then you won’t be afraid. If . . .” Her grandmother trails off.

“You mean like being a doctor?”

“Well, some people may not be cut out for it. It’s unnatural for them. I can’t tell you what to do. But if I could live this life one more time, that’s what I would want to do. Out of my fear, out of helplessness. In order to be less fearful, and to really help. You should pray about it. Only you can know.” Big Ammachi hesitates. “If that is what God leads you to, I can tell you, your grandmother would be very happy.”

Mariamma snuggles against the familiar shoulder, thinking over what she heard. In a year and a half, she’ll leave for Alwaye College to start her pre-degree. She had planned to study zoology. But if she’s moved and frightened by human suffering and disease, why study weaver ants and tadpoles? Why not medicine? If God is pointing her in some direction, she wishes God would point more clearly. If one imagines what God is saying, is that the same as God actually speaking?

She feels altered by the time they get home. Talking with Big Ammachi, addressing her fears, has brought her comfort and a curious stillness of her mind, a sensation that lingers. Could it be that God spoke to her just now through her grandmother? She feels no compulsion to talk about it further, not with Big Ammachi, nor with her father. She will pray, too, but mostly she’ll try to hold on to this feeling of stillness. Whether God has spoken or has yet to speak, she’s at peace.

The Hospital Fund created in the wake of the Maramon Convention carries the hopes and expectations of the thousands who attended the unforgettable sermon by Rory McGillicutty (and Uplift Master). That event, now referred to as the Revelation of the Hospital, is followed by an even bigger miracle: a generous donation of 150 acres of land at Parambil in the heart of old Travancore. It makes it hard to think of reasons to put the hospital anywhere else.

More than a year later, when the time comes for Mariamma to leave for Alwaye College, she’s certain: she will set her sights on medical school. When she shares her decision with the family, her grandmother’s joy is something to behold. Her father couldn’t be happier. He says, “My mother wanted that for me, but I just wasn’t cut out for it. You were destined for this.”

Big Ammachi takes Mariamma aside to give her a gold necklace and cross. “Years ago, when JoJo died, my heart broke. In my sorrow, I prayed to God. I said, ‘Please cure this, or send us someone who can.’ Molay, I’m going to tell you something I never told you before, something I would leave out each time you wanted to hear the story of the day you were born, and lighting the velakku. The truth is I prayed that God would point you to medicine. But I didn’t want you weighed down with my expectation. I’m glad it was revealed to you. You know that I pray for you every night and I always will. I’m too old to go with you, and besides, I can’t leave Baby Mol, but your Big Ammachi will be with you every step of the way. Even when I’m long gone, you carry my name. Never forget: I am with you always.”