In Pune, India, 10-year-old Shreedevi shows us the house she lives in — and the one she dreams of. With the support of sponsors, Shreedevi is in school and working to achieve her dream. Through her drawing, her words and a visit to her home, we glimpse the life of a girl in India and the future she imagines.
Colorful saris and shirts are strung up to dry in the street, flowing in the breeze, as we wait to meet a 10-year-old girl on her way home from school.
Months ago, we featured a drawing that a sixth-grade girl in Pune, India drew for her sponsors in the U.S. The pencil and crayon drawing depicts a girl standing next to a house. Trees and flowers sprout from a green lawn. A flock of birds glides in the air. Today, we will meet this little girl — and see her home.
A Glimpse of Her Life
As we wait, listening to the orchestra of beeping horns and motorbike engines, a little girl appears. Dressed in her school uniform — a cheery yellow polo shirt with a set of dark pants — she gives us a shy smile. Her dark curls are drawn back into pigtails with two white ribbons fluttering like butterflies on each side.
Shreedevi leads us to her home, weaving through a couple of alleyways — no more than five feet wide — dodging motorbikes and stacks of buckets that line the street. The day is warm, and the air is heavy with humidity. The cement streets are wet with dishwater from women scrubbing in buckets on their doorsteps.
She nods to us as she approaches a tan, two-story apartment. The plastic siding is adorned with printed ivy and white flowers. She leads us up two flights of stairs to her home. While we slip off our shoes, Shreedevi’s little brother pokes his head out.
As we step into her home, Shreedevi motions for us to sit on the bed. The room is barely 100 square feet — just enough for a single twin bed, a small wardrobe, a bathroom enclosed in a closet and a tiny kitchen tucked in the corner. Running water is only available for three hours in the morning. For the other 21 hours, her family must fetch water from down the street and carry it back in jugs.
“This is my home,” Shreedevi says, smiling.
A One-Room Home
With three children and Shreedevi’s mom and dad, a total of five live here, in this one room.
Shreedevi has two little brothers, ages 6 and 8. The youngest sits quietly on the bed while he pencils in the names of fruits in his school workbook. I hear a rustling noise and peer under the bed, where the other brother lies with a mischievous grin, holding a soccer ball.
Her family has lived in this room for six years. When Shreedevi was a toddler, she and her parents moved to Pune from a small village in Karnataka, a neighboring state.
“It was a remote place. There was no work opportunity there,” Shreedevi’s mom says. “There are educational schools there, but not like Pune, which are much more advanced than in the village.”
Paavani, Shreedevi’s mom, works as a babysitter in the community. She has kind eyes and wears an indigo kurta with jade green bangles.
Before hearing about sponsorship through Bharatiya Samaj Seva Kendra (BSSK), Holt’s longtime partner in India, Paavani says life was really difficult.
“We are from a very poor background. Sometimes I had to leave my three children back at home and go to work,” she says, looking off into the distance. “It was very difficult to manage with three kids and the house expenses. We were not aware of anyone giving support. But we heard about a few families who are under support [from Holt]. From them, we got to know about BSSK.”
Because Shreedevi is in Holt’s child sponsorship program, her education, healthcare and food are covered. Even when her family may face financial hardship, the generous support of sponsors ensures that she can stay in school or receive the medical care she needs if she is sick.
When struggling with finances, many families living in poverty are faced with no choice but to take their children out of school. The cost of books, uniforms and other school supplies can overwhelm families who are scraping by month by month.
And often, girls are the first to be pulled out of school due to cultural norms, especially in slum communities where economic pressures are high. Sadly, when girls don’t stay in school, they face the risks of child labor or early marriage.
“Early marriages cut short their childhood, compromise their health and trap them in cycles of poverty,” says Chaitrali, a member of BSSK’s educational support team. “Keeping girls in school is one of the most powerful ways to protect their rights, ensure dignity and unlock their potential to shape a better future.”
“Keeping girls in school is one of the most powerful ways to protect their rights, ensure dignity and unlock their potential to shape a better future.”
And because of the support of sponsors, Shreedevi’s future looks bright.
A Girl with Dreams
When she grows up, Shreedevi would like to be a police officer.
Paavani smiles. “I am confident that Shreedevi is going to grow up big and become independent,” she says. “Since your help, my children have become smarter and more active than before.”
While we talk, Paavani pulls out a Marathi-to-English chart that they use to practice at home. Paavani encourages her children to practice language every day. At school, Shreedevi’s lessons are taught in both Marathi and English.
Marathi is the local language in Pune, one of 1,600 languages spoken in India.
“My favorite subject is math,” Shreedevi says eagerly. “And… Marathi is my least favorite.”
Most days, Shreedevi’s father takes her to school on his motorbike. He works as a driver around Pune. Some days she walks to school instead, which takes 15 minutes.
Shreedevi shares that she likes playing kho kho, a tag game, with her friends at school. She also likes to read books. Sadly, her school doesn’t have a library.
Instead, she visits the BSSK library program, called Kahaniyon ki Duniya, or World of Stories. Supported by Holt sponsors and donors, the library is located at the DEESHA in the heart of the slum community where Shreedevi lives.
The DEESHA stands for Development of Education Environment Social Health Awareness. But in Marathi, disha means “direction” or “guidance.” There is no better name to describe this place.
Children and teens gather here after school. Some come to read at the library, while others come for help with schoolwork. BSSK social workers check in, making sure every child is safe and supported. Each day, students gather for a guided discussion. These are special, age-appropriate sessions where they discuss healthy relationships, domestic violence, inequality, child marriage and more.
Their mothers come to the DEESHA too. In group trainings, they learn about nutrition, hygiene and parenting. They learn a lot — like the importance of feeding their children a diverse and nutritious diet, why their children should wash their bare feet before stepping into their homes or why time for self-care is important for parenting.
This is a special place — one that is breaking the cycle of poverty. And it’s in the middle of Shreedevi’s neighborhood.
A Place of Imagination
Last year, Shreedevi read 40 books at the library program. She even got an award and a medal for her reading. Her goal is to read 60 books this year.
“Storybooks and Hindi books are my favorite,” Shreedevi says.
The library program provides a safe space for children to come and read. Instead of focusing on academic books, the program encourages children to explore stories with wonder and freedom.
“When they read at school, they are expected to determine a moral judgement or give a report about the book. They are scared of answering questions,” says Vaishali, BSSK’s educational support program director. “But we don’t want them to fear books. We want them to realize that books are not scary. We want the children to touch them and make the books their own.”
BSSK provides books of all types and reading levels, rotating the collection every couple of weeks. For two hours in the morning and two hours in the afternoon, children from all around the community show up at the World of Stories library program to read.
“We don’t want them to fear books. We want them to realize that books are not scary. We want the children to touch them and make the books their own.”
Like a sanctuary, the DEESHA provides a safe place for children to go every day. The space is quiet yet vibrant, with woven mats laid across the tile floors for reading. Butterflies and tigers are painted on the outer wall beside a rainbow hopscotch — its colors faded by years of joyful play.
This peaceful place of imagination and wonder stands in stark contrast to the loud, cramped streets of the surrounding slum community.
Shreedevi’s home is only a 10-minute walk away.
The House of Her Dreams
As we talk in Shreedevi’s home, the soccer ball rolls around the floor as her two brothers dribble back and forth.
Shreedevi enjoys listening to music and dancing. She likes to play badminton with her friends. She also mentions that she likes to draw.
I nod, pulling a little pencil and crayon drawing from my bag. As I place her drawing in her hands, Shreedevi’s eyes widen and she grins, speaking quickly in Marathi.
“She is so shocked to see her drawing come back,” Vaishali translates, smiling. “She is very happy to see something she has made.”
Shreedevi holds her drawing in her hand — and for the rest of the visit, doesn’t let it go.
The green lawn and the flowers are so vibrant that they seem to sprout off the page. I ask Shreedevi about this home.
“In the future, I want to have this kind of house,” she explains. “It has flowers. It has a tree. And the house is by itself.”
“In the future, I want to have this kind of house. It has flowers. It has a tree. And the house is by itself.”
Where Shreedevi lives, there are no flowers. There are no trees. Few homes have much more than a doorway to let in natural light. The buildings rise close together, blocking out the sky. One-room homes are stacked on top of one another — a living space shared by four, five, six or more family members.
Her dream home has open spaces. A place to play. A yard to run around in, with flowers and trees. A space that is just for her — to grow and dream.
Mother and Daughter
Paavani squeezes her daughter’s arm as they look at the drawing together. She calls Shreedevi “sweetie” at home.
“I am happy she is able to put her dream on the paper. I wish that she would have a house like this in the future,” Paavani says.
When Paavani was 17, she was arranged to be married. She tells us that she graduated from high school and then her parents sent her to meet her husband.
“Because we lived in such a remote place, the studies of the school were not advanced enough for me to get a job there or study further. That’s why my parents got me married,” Paavani tells us. “They married me into another poor family. If they could have given me a good family, maybe my life would be different. My in-laws assured my parents that they would educate me further, but they never did that.”
Shortly after getting married, she had children, and the responsibilities of keeping her household became a lot to carry.
“I don’t want the same thing to happen to Shreedevi or any girl — to get married so early with so many responsibilities,” Paavani says, sadly. “I want my children to have a good school, because I came from a remote area where there were not many facilities. Every girl and every boy should have a good school.”
Shreedevi sits on the bed, watching her mom speak. We ask her what age she thinks is a good time to get married.
“Thirty years or more,” Shreedevi says, matter-of-factly. “You should get married after 30 because there are a lot of things to do when you are living in your parents’ house. Once you get married, there are a lot of responsibilities and you’re not able to achieve your dreams. You have to play someone else’s dream. To achieve your own dream, you should not get married early.”
“Once you get married, there are a lot of responsibilities and you’re not able to achieve your dreams. You have to play someone else’s dream. To achieve your own dream, you should not get married early.”
Free to Dream
Some girls living in poverty in India are afraid to dream.
Some girls are pulled out of school to work as domestic servants and help their families earn income. Statistically, girls who get married young are likely to experience domestic violence. Girls often become isolated from family and friends, sometimes even moving across the country to be with their new spouse. And with the responsibilities of being a young wife and mother in India, housework and early motherhood take up their time — leaving little margin to continue education. And if a girl did have a dream, it usually dissolves.
For girls, the monthly support of a child sponsor protects her education — and her future. As a girl reaches her late teenage years, families don’t feel pressured to marry their daughters because of the cost of education.
An education means opportunity. It’s the chance for a girl to pursue her dreams.
“If she couldn’t go to school… it would be miserable — a very bad life,” Paavani says, looking at her daughter. “But when I found out Shreedevi was sponsored, I felt calm. Especially Shreedevi being a girl, I feel very happy for [sponsorship] because otherwise life would be difficult for her. Please continue helping her.”
Paavani gently places her arm around Shreedevi as a warm breeze wafts through the open door.
“Someone from so far away is sending help to us,” Shreedevi says, smiling with bright eyes. “Thank you for your help.”
Send a Child to School
Every child deserves a chance to learn — help children in poverty get an education.
