Foreign Change

I recently sent a large number of packages of Chennai treats to friends and family. In my sister's package I included some Rupees for her two little nieces. Jess is taking it upon herself to introduce these girls to the size of the planet. As a result, they've been receiving foreign currency and for Christmas got a fuzzy Choco-pan Man from Japan. While I was packing the coins into the box I tried to imagine what strange coins and fancy paper really mean to a three year old and a six year old. I realize there is no way to fully express how diverse the world is, or to demonstrate how I feel about our world now that I've experienced immersion in a very different culture. A person can express it in words, in stories, and they will learn about the world in school, but six year olds and three year olds are involved in very small worlds and psychologically can't grasp the expanse.

It was at this thought that I considered not including money for Jessica's nieces. I thought they would rather something squishy or sparkly, something interactive rather than academic. Hell, wouldn't we all? But then I remembered Grandpa.

April 6th was the anniversary of my Grandpa Nease's death. He had dementia so by the time he died his personality had disappeared and he wasn't himself anymore, in many ways he left us long before last April. He's been on my mind recently for a number of reasons, but when I tried to put myself in the shoes of a little girl receiving money from a far away place, I realized I had actually worn those shoes.

Grandpa became the Commissioner of Education for the International Church of the Nazarene late in his career as a minister, so he was traveling to other countries after he had grandchildren. Jessica and I were given wooden carvings of antelope from Africa, aboriginal weapons (the touristy kind) from Australia, beads from South America and coins and paper money from all over. I understood very little about how far he had travelled, where he had gone, and I never tried fathoming what kind of culture or peoples handled these things. I was just excited to get presents and look at photos of elephants or sunsets. Those gifts had little direct effect, but throughout my childhood, teen years and through college, I had the same box full of Grandpa's money on a shelf in my room. Occasionally I would take it off the shelf and move things around inside, take out a coin or two and look at where they came from. In earlier days I used them as treasure in some wild adventure at sea (the rocking chair in the living room), or as priceless artifacts in an archaeological race against evil with Indiana Jones (the end of the driveway with Mary Langevin). I didn't know much about it, but I knew the money was exotic.

The older I get the more I realize that the little things I absorbed as a kid have a major effect on my adulthood. I'm not saying that without Grandpa's foreign pocket change I would not have traveled as much, but I don't think it hurt either. The coins, the trinkets, they were just clues. They were tiny hints that there was more to see than the bend in the Lamoille River. (Though that's a great thing to see every day.)

My yen or rupees may not have the same effect on my in-laws (is that what they are? Nieces once removed?) but I would like to do whatever I can to pay this forward.

I am very grateful for those clues.