The measure of abundance

Pen and Baan taught me what it means to live abundantly in the richness of relationships

By Susan Keays
December 2007

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For three years I lived in a humble village in Northern Thailand called Baan Srvichian. The original inhabitants had moved there to isolate themselves because they had leprosy. The Betharam Fathers, and later on Camillian Brother Gianni Della Rizza, went from isolated hut to isolated hut treating the disease and assisting the families. Eventually they built an inpatient and outpatient treatment centre in the village. Yet, even after the people's leprosy had been completely conquered, the village and its citizenry continued to be shunned by neighbouring villages and by local employers.

Every Saturday I went to the home of a young Baan Srvichian couple, Pen and Baan, to teach them English. Their house was a single room with cement walls and floor. The indoor furnishings consisted of a small fridge and two mats on the floor, one for sleeping and one for sitting. Any cooking was done over a single outdoor gas burner, and food preparation like chopping took place on a large, conveniently located tree stump. Usually we'd sit on the floor inside to study, practicing simple words and sentences while their toddler, Dton, crawled over and around us.

Over the weeks and months, our relationship evolved from teacher/student to friend/friend. Despite this transition, though, all my visits ended the same way-with a gift of fruit or a sweet, steamed rice treat tucked into my bookbag or the basket of my motorbike. I was touched by their offering and very grateful for it, but I was a little uncomfortable about depleting their small stock of foodstuffs. They had so little, at least by Canadian standards.

After a few months of getting together, I hoped our relationship might be on solid enough ground for me to address the issue. One Saturday, I said to them, "It truly is a gift to be invited into your home each week. You mustn't give me a second gift by sending me away with these pineapples!" Pen's response stopped me in my tracks and made me wonder which one of us was more the missionary. She looked around at her house and family and replied: "But we have so much!"

It's been almost two years since I've seen Pen and Baan and I wouldn't be a bit surprised if they've forgotten whatever snippets of English they might have learned from me. I, on the other hand, will never forget what I learned from them – a clearly more astute definition and measure of "abundance".

From their example, I am drawn to seek forgiveness for not truly understanding what it means to "live abundantly" in the richness of relationships built on justice, peace, compassion and sustainability with all of God's creation.

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