The Tithe
Tithe is an offering in thanksgiving to one's God. It is the one-tenth part of a revenue and is a practice followed religiously since centuries. Through out the Bible, there are references to different people who have offered their tithes, small or big, unfailingly. An act of gratitude to the benevolent God!
I had never followed this ritual. Nevertheless read on for I think the real life story that unfolds below will make you think about it.
My grandparents have their own land and house in my hometown. I think this is a huge blessing considering the scarcity of land nowadays.
We came to our hometown to settle down when we were kids. It was a relief that our praents didn't have to go through the pain of finding/building an appropriate place to stay as we already had one, which was meant to be ours eventually.
In the early days spent there, i used to observe my grandfather toiling with some tools in the land besides our house in the evenings. As dusk approached, my grandmother used to shout from inside asking him to get into the house. Some days, before he finished up, he usually called one of us kids. If I were the chosen one, I would make my way grumbling, wading through the mosquitoes, ants and leaves on my face, hands and legs. I would often find him scratching at the mud until he would pull out a vegetable. Sometimes it would be a vegetable called ''chenna' in my native language. He would place it besides some others that he had collected. He was working so that our land gave some produce. Apart from such etables, we also had 4 coconut trees and a huge mango tree. It was 'Eden'. I always used to be in awe.
Some years later, a painful decision was taken to sell a portion of the land. The present layout was such that the house stood in the center with portions of land on either sides. The one that was chosen finally was the one that gave us the vegetables, mangoes and coconuts. The other land had some jasmine bushes apart from coconut trees of course.
I often wondered how they all felt about it and came to the decision. Was it difficult? But i was too young to understand the emotions. Moreover, all signs of emotions were hidden by a shield of practicality. Secretly, my sister and I, young as we were, vowed to buy the land back when we would grow up and make enough money.
Years went by, there was not much activity on the piece of land that was sold. A silver lining!! We might, after all be able to buy the land back..However, even after two years in our respective jobs, neither of us could cough up enough money to buy the land back. But hope was adrift.
Just a few days earlier, my mother mentioned that the present owners of the land were felling down the coconut trees and the huge mango tree. There could be only one motive for clearing up the land - I thought with a feeling of loss, which my mother confirmed too.
Coming up two days later was Hosanna, a day when christians all over the world commemorate Jesus' triumphant entry into Jerusalem. On that day, eons ago, it is believed that people welcomed Him with carpets of palm leaves. Keeping in tradition, families would contribute palm leaves to their parishes and churches, which would inturn be distributed to the believers.
I often used to wonder how so many palm leaves could be collected. My mother was thinking of contributing palm leaves from our remaining land. In the other side, the workers were clearing the land. So she asked them if they could cut some leaves for us from our trees after they were done with their work. They agreed to do so, but said that as they were already felling the coconut trees in the sold piece of land, they might as well give us leaves from those trees.
That evening, our Maruti car was filled with palm leaves. It turned out that as it was a rainy day, climbers refused to go up the coconut trees in many places. There was a low collection in the church until my parents reached there with ours. We ended up supplying about three-fourth of the leaves, with only two other families contributing otherwise.
It felt good to hear that. I rejoiced as a thought crossed my mind. Without realising, we had given our 'tithe', when we least expected to. The land gave back to the creator its last produce.
I had never followed this ritual. Nevertheless read on for I think the real life story that unfolds below will make you think about it.
My grandparents have their own land and house in my hometown. I think this is a huge blessing considering the scarcity of land nowadays.
We came to our hometown to settle down when we were kids. It was a relief that our praents didn't have to go through the pain of finding/building an appropriate place to stay as we already had one, which was meant to be ours eventually.
In the early days spent there, i used to observe my grandfather toiling with some tools in the land besides our house in the evenings. As dusk approached, my grandmother used to shout from inside asking him to get into the house. Some days, before he finished up, he usually called one of us kids. If I were the chosen one, I would make my way grumbling, wading through the mosquitoes, ants and leaves on my face, hands and legs. I would often find him scratching at the mud until he would pull out a vegetable. Sometimes it would be a vegetable called ''chenna' in my native language. He would place it besides some others that he had collected. He was working so that our land gave some produce. Apart from such etables, we also had 4 coconut trees and a huge mango tree. It was 'Eden'. I always used to be in awe.
Some years later, a painful decision was taken to sell a portion of the land. The present layout was such that the house stood in the center with portions of land on either sides. The one that was chosen finally was the one that gave us the vegetables, mangoes and coconuts. The other land had some jasmine bushes apart from coconut trees of course.
I often wondered how they all felt about it and came to the decision. Was it difficult? But i was too young to understand the emotions. Moreover, all signs of emotions were hidden by a shield of practicality. Secretly, my sister and I, young as we were, vowed to buy the land back when we would grow up and make enough money.
Years went by, there was not much activity on the piece of land that was sold. A silver lining!! We might, after all be able to buy the land back..However, even after two years in our respective jobs, neither of us could cough up enough money to buy the land back. But hope was adrift.
Just a few days earlier, my mother mentioned that the present owners of the land were felling down the coconut trees and the huge mango tree. There could be only one motive for clearing up the land - I thought with a feeling of loss, which my mother confirmed too.
Coming up two days later was Hosanna, a day when christians all over the world commemorate Jesus' triumphant entry into Jerusalem. On that day, eons ago, it is believed that people welcomed Him with carpets of palm leaves. Keeping in tradition, families would contribute palm leaves to their parishes and churches, which would inturn be distributed to the believers.
I often used to wonder how so many palm leaves could be collected. My mother was thinking of contributing palm leaves from our remaining land. In the other side, the workers were clearing the land. So she asked them if they could cut some leaves for us from our trees after they were done with their work. They agreed to do so, but said that as they were already felling the coconut trees in the sold piece of land, they might as well give us leaves from those trees.
That evening, our Maruti car was filled with palm leaves. It turned out that as it was a rainy day, climbers refused to go up the coconut trees in many places. There was a low collection in the church until my parents reached there with ours. We ended up supplying about three-fourth of the leaves, with only two other families contributing otherwise.
It felt good to hear that. I rejoiced as a thought crossed my mind. Without realising, we had given our 'tithe', when we least expected to. The land gave back to the creator its last produce.
Comments
Nicely written reminded me of the days I cared for nothing else than a mouth full of ice candy.