Rice for Thai kindergarteners in need

The walk to Mercy isn’t far. Past the brown, murky silt and trash of the Hua Lamphong Canal, where monitor lizards crawl with gleaming eyes on dark mud flats, and ramshackle houses of broken wood and corrugated iron tip precariously on stilted foundations over the water’s flow, the current bubbling with chemicals and waste. Past the yellow elder flowers, flagging and trembling in the dry wind and rush of traffic on At Narong Road. Past the women in floral blouses sharing bowls of rice in a patch of shade; past the engine-roar of motorbikes; past rainbow-striped coconut jelly, buttered toast, long skewers of catfish; past a toddler sitting on the cool floor of his mother’s shop, dressed in Tuesday’s bright pink. There’s beauty here. There is also need.

The Mercy Centre operates 17 schools for a thousand kindergarteners; to walk the narrow, canal-side soi streets of areas like Lock 6, Romklao, or Flat 17 is to pass child after child — and yes, adult after adult; the Mercy schools were founded in 1972 — who have walked through Mercy’s doors, played in our preschools, learned in our classrooms, and eaten rice at our table.

Day by day, we provide rice — the staple of Thailand’s cuisine — to the 1,000 children in our schools. One in ten of those kids comes to school hungry, with not enough food at home for proper nourishment. It’s difficult to learn like that. It’s difficult to live like that. The healthy meals we provide help our young students grow strong, but Mercy’s impact goes beyond just individual children. Our Rice Project reaches whole families and benefits the larger community, providing food security and assistance that is enormously needed.

On home visits, Mercy staff wind through the narrow concrete alleyways between small homes, bearing heavy bags of rice. They call out politely at the open doorways, where sometimes only a few mats serve for furniture in the one-room shelters; with a bow of respect, they hand over the rice, that precious gift. For many elderly, disabled, or unemployed people who live in great precarity, these visits are critical. A grandmother with no food to survive was invited just last week to our kitchen, to come and eat for free with Mercy staff and kids. Our stock of rice means that we are a community resource.

This is true in the everyday, and also when disaster strikes. When trouble comes, our communities turn to Mercy.

Last year saw terrible floods submerge the rice fields, temples, homes, and streets of northern Thailand in a turbid inundation of brown water. We sent aid. Donations of dry rice provided support to those affected by the flooding, addressing immediate needs and helping communities recover from this natural disaster.

A fire broke out this January in the early dark hours after midnight, red flame licking the paltry frames of shacks. Wood flared bright; subsided to char and ash. Fire is the specter haunting such tight-packed, ill-built communities, and 22 wooden rooms were destroyed that night in Khlong Toei. Mercy brought hot cooked rice to feed the fire victims, dazed though they were by the loss of their homes. Even when an earthquake of 7.7 magnitude shook Bangkok on a Friday’s noon, making the walls sway and people flee onto the streets, some shoeless, clutching belongings, stumbling on the burning tar, people knew that Mercy was a safe place to turn to.

We thank all our donors and especially GlobalGiving for funding the Rice Project. We are so grateful for your generous support of this important and life-changing program. Your contributions have profoundly impacted the lives of more than 1,000 kindergarteners attending our 17 schools across Bangkok, Thailand, and hundreds and hundreds of lives beyond that in our communities. Bowl by bowl, grain by grain, rice nurtures those in need — providing a secure meal, providing a secure hope.