After several days of non-stop family and the incredibly overtired children to prove it, I was so excited to sit on the couch with my husband today and watch our Netflix movie that had been lying on the coffee table all week. The kids were napping, we’d just had awesome sandwiches from the market next door and I was ready to relax for a little while.
“Slumdog Millionaire” had been in our queue and I was really excited to finally see it–several good friends had recommended it and said I’d love it, it was all popular and whatnot with the awards shows and I run to the Pussycat Dolls rendition of Jai Ho. I was READY.
Except I wasn’t. I really don’t know what I was expecting–actually, yes I do. I was expecting a light movie with maybe a Bollywood dance sequence or 7. Instead, I saw orphaned children tortured to make money for well-to-do adults. When they were about to blind the little boy with the beautiful singing voice so he’d make a better begger, I turned away and asked my husband to turn it off. He just stared at me for a minute–
“No, seriously. Now. Turn it off. I can’t watch.”
And he did. And we put the movie right back in the Netflix envelope and back into the mailbox.
A few years ago, Iwould have been able to watch. Not that I would have enjoyed seeing that particular part, but I would have watched. And cried. And talked to people about it and thought about those orphaned kids in India and what they go through.
But you know what? I’ve met a boy this happened to in Ethiopia. So now it hits a little closer to home. Because those kids crawling around garbage dumps in the movie? I’ve met them, too. And the ones who watched their parents die in the movie? My 3 year old has friends who that happened to. I couldn’t watch because if I did, I couldn’t get the real kid’s faces in my life who those things have happened to out of my head.
I couldn’t watch. But I can do something to help those kids. And you do too–everytime you support this organization or others like it.
And I’m thankful for that.