I grew up in a very small town in west central Illinois. Not much happened there. It was far away from any big cities. Farm and hunting country - 100% white - most of the time.
When I was about 9 years old an Indian family suddenly moved in across the street. The Patels. The house they moved into was an antique and hadn’t been kept up well. The father of the family was a doctor and became our town physician.
My older brother and I, to my knowledge, were the only people in town who were interested in this fascinating and colorful, culturally unusual family. I'm sure we were the only people who ever stepped foot into their home.
And stepping into their home was like stepping into another world. The smells, sounds and sights were all so different. The mother of the family was gentle and always welcomed me. She always had food cooking and offered me some. I didn't like it, I wasn't used to it, but she encouraged me to try it. She, and the grandmother of the family,with their beautiful saris and bindis between their eyebrows, captivated me. They were like music to my eyes.
My brother Todd, who was 12, had caught wind that Dr. Patel knew about hypnotism. Todd was interested in esoteric things then and he pursued conversations with Dr. Patel to pick his brain about it. He claimed he even got Dr. Patel to actually hypnotize him a time or two.
I thought this was super cool - but my interest in the family was not hypnotism. It was their little daughter - they called her Tino - and she was about 3 years old when the moved in. I was also very excited to learn that the mother was expecting another baby.
I was crazy about little kids back then and I loved little Tino. I was the town babysitter so I made sure the parents knew that I was willing to play with and babysit for their little girl. She was beautiful - with her perfect brown skin, black wavy hair and big brown sparkling eyes. Her little gold sparkling bracelets and shiny earrings fascinated me.
She was dainty, happy and always glad to see me.
I was thrilled when their new baby arrived. I went over to visit as soon as I could and they were welcoming as always. I witnessed something special that day. Something that I've never forgotten - something I wish others had seen too.
The mother and grandmother had a white linen cloth placed over the dining room table. The newborn baby was naked and laid out on the the cloth. It was warm in the house. Using oil, the mother began to rub the baby. She massaged the infant’s limbs, firmly, surprisingly vigorously, up and down, up and down.
Then, shocking to me, she took the baby by the leg and held it upside down - sort of bobbing it up and down, gently up and down.
Then she held him by the other leg. Same thing, bobbed him up and down, up and down, stretching his limbs and joints.
Then she took him by one arm, dangling him carefully by one arm, again bobbing him up and down. Then the other arm.
I watched mesmerized. The baby loved it - even though he acted a little annoyed - I could tell he felt the nourishment of his mother's loving attention while she rubbed, exercised and stretched his tiny body.
It was a beautiful thing. Something I had certainly never seen before.
I know now that what I witnessed that day was a traditional Ayurvedic baby massage. And since studying these things as an adult I have all the more appreciation for the sweet Indian mother who allowed me to witness such a special process.
Eventually they left the community. I was heartbroken. I had hoped to watch Tino and the baby grow up. I was naive to think they would stay in the community.
No one said a word when they left. They were like a dream. It was like they just slipped away without anyone caring - and a new doctor moved in, a white man, and the community embraced him. He stayed for decades.
Looking back, I’m sad that no one welcomed the Patel's. I'm not surprised though, the community was and still is very racist. It's amazing to me that not one of the adults I knew could be bothered to get to know them. Why? How can people lack such curiosity? The town turned a blind eye to a beautiful family who were obviously out of their cultural element and could have used some welcoming kindness.
I’ll never know. I'm sure they moved somewhere more welcoming, at least I hope so. I’m certainly glad that my brother and I had the sense to not be afraid of them. It was a wonderful, unexpected and educational experience. I'll always remember them. I hope they remember me too.