I can't help but scan over the children of the slums feet everytime I see them. Or the patients as they lay in bed recovering. The feet of these children are hard and rough, some run deep with wounds. Its as if their soles alone tell the story of their lives. Hard and rough and sometimes running deep with pain. Every once and a while when we arrive to hand the meals out there is a new injury on someone's foot which I later come back to clean. I usually return by myself after buying soap, gauze and a clean cloth. I walk in and no one bothers me but the injured child comes right up, knowing why I am there. We find a 'quiet' spot and I squat down to clean. In this act of cleaning there is significance beyond taking care of a wound. In many eastern cultures a person's feet are considered the lowest and dirtiest place on the body. One should not touch another with their feet or point the soles of their feet at someone. A servant washes his masters feet, that is why the biblical tale of Jesus washing the disciples feet carries such weight. This sentiment still rings true in this part of the world. Your feet are the vessel that carry you through life and in a culture that still struggles with castes, one look at a persons feet and you can guess if they would be the servant or the served. That is a barrier I fear will never be broken... So I wash. We wash. We clean. It may be one hurting foot at a time or thirty pairs at a street kids day, but as I stoop down to wash the injured and dirtied feet of these children I hope they know I am theirs. I am their servant because I am His.