I find myself coming to terms with each Kolkata memory...

... by giving it its own individual tear.  I will have an intense flashback of a person I was attached to, a place I visited often, a common scene on the streets, or a significant event, my eyes water, and a single tear (occasionally more) runs down my face.  For a few seconds, I stay perfectly still and hold on to that feeling - a heart breaking happiness, a tug at my stomach, a lump in throat - and then I let it go.  I go back to whatever I was doing (usually some sort of busy work at Zeeks).  
But when I say I let go, I mean for the time being.  It's never going to go away completely.  I know that.  And I defintely do not want it to.  But I can come to terms with it for a while by letting that one tear fall.  
It's good to have found a way to deal with these things, to have recognized it, and to have embraced.  It helps a lot.  If I were unable to embrace it, I feel I would go crazy.  I called the flashbacks intense; intense doesn't even begin to describe them.  For that moment, whatever pops into my head is real.  I'm back there for that moment.  I can feel, hear, smell, touch, taste everything that's going on.  It's almost like living in two different worlds.
So I embrace each tear.  I let it run its full course.  I never have, never will wipe it off.  Who cares if someone sees me crying?  Kolkata taught me that it's okay to be vulnerable and I will never forget that lesson.  I need that tear.  I love that tear, just as I love 

I'm sorry that I never got around to posting a final entry.

Things got a little bit stressful when I got back home and I just have not felt like sitting down and writing in a while.  To be honest, I don't really feel like it right now, either, but I figured I should write just a little something.  Even if nobody reads it.

When I got home, I was incredibly afraid of taking a bus.  I did not want to face the reality that that bus I hopped on would not be filled with sweaty, smelly Bengalis, that the bus would not jerk me around like mad, that sweat would not  be dripping down my face as I sat there, breathing in the nasty exhaust.  All of these sound like bad things, right?  Why would I be afraid of having a nice, cool, quiet ride on the bus?  I don't know.  But the truth is I was terrified.
Well, I have a friend out in Northgate who I really wanted to go see and that required me getting on a bus.  So a few days ago, I faced my fear and got on the bus.  The first ride was not the greatest because not only did I just not want to be on that bus, but I also got a bit lost.  But on my ride back up Capitol Hill from Northgate, I was looking around the bus at the various people sharing the bus with me.  And I thought to myself, "My goodness, humanity is beautiful."  
Kolkata gave me that.  This is the most important thing I brought home with me from Kolkata.  I never want to lose this.  It's a beautiful thing.

Going to California with an achin' in my heart.

It's 9:40 am in Bangkok right now.  At around 12:30 pm, I will get on a bus to airport.  I will check into my flight, get my baggage checked, go through security, etc.  At 4:25 pm, my flight home begins.  I fly Bangkok-Taipei, Taipei-LA.  I will arrive in LAX at 8:40 pm on 31 May 2008.  

If I thought I could, with my words, give you guys even the slightest idea of how I felt right now, I would write more.  But I just don't think I can.  Give it time.  I'll get back to ya.

You're my sugarplum, honeybunch, pumpyumpyumpkin

I never really thought that I would have any inkling of the pain a mother goes through when she loses a child at such a young age.  And without even having birthed a baby.  Who would have thought that the biggest loss of my twenty years would be a three year old Indian girl with cerebral palsy? 

On Wednesday, May 14, around 6:30 pm, Kajol, mera baccha, died.  Sister tells me that she was fine most of the day, but around 5:30 pm she began to have convulsions.  Sister gave her an injection and got in the ambulance with her to go to the hospital.  She died on the way.  Sister says that she died peacefully with her mouth open just slightly as if she were about to say something.

Thursdays, the homes are closed, so I didn't go to Shishu Bhavan.  Friday, I walked into my floor and immediately Ashapriya, one of the older mentally handicapped girls, takes me by the hand and takes me over to one of the posters on the wall with pictures of all the kids.  She points to Kajol and I nod and smile.  She then makes a motion with her hands as if she's shooing someone away.  My immediate thoughts are that she's been moved to another home, which happens often.  Cabita, one of the teachers, walks up to me and says, "She's dead."  WHAT?!  Maybe she's joking.  She could just be joking.  Why would she joke about something like that?  But, still, maybe she's joking.  It's possible, right?  The Indians sometimes have a weird sense of humor... "Really?"  "Yes, on Wednesday."  "Oh."

You want to convince yourself that it's for the best.  She's with God.  No more pain.  No more convulsions.  He is holding her right now, as she should be held.  But you're human.  You're selfish.  Why can't it be me holding her?  Why did you take her from me?  Your arms are empty.  You sing to her.  You know she can hear you.  That puts a little of what was ripped from your heart back.  But still your arms are empty. 

But as a good friend of mine said to me, "Don't cry.  You'll only hurt her more." 

The first few hours were a bit hard, but the more I think about it, the more that I know it's for the best.  That knowledge slowly makes its way from my brain to my heart and it doesn't sting quite as much.  His arms are far more comforting than mine are.  And besides, I'll have another chance to hold her.  It's not over.  The love will always be there.

You're my sugarplum, honeybunch, pumpyumpkin. You're my sweetie pie.  You're my cuppycake, gumdrop, schnoogumsboogums.  You're the apple of my eye.  And I love you so and I want you to know that I'll always be right here.  And I love to sing sweet songs to you because you are so dear.

I'm down to sixteen days.

My heart beats hard whenever I think about it.

Oof. I really am terrible at this, aren't I?

It's been a busy couple of weeks.  It's usually about 90 degrees and 50% humidity every day, so every second I'm not working or with friends I'm sleeping or hanging out in places with fans.  There are less volunteers now because of the heat, so I'm working a lot.  It's tough on my body, but I love it so I can't stop.

The kids are doing pretty well considering the heat.  A few of them have been in and out of the hospital with respiratory problems from the heat, but everybody seems to be getting used to it by now.  Shyama's operation went well and she's back with us.  Kajol was in the hospital for a bit, but she's also back and continuing to improve.  Peter's chicken pox are all cleared up so we're back to working on walking when he's not in school.  Vishal has been taken back to the home that he was in before coming to Shishu Bhavan.  If I get a chance, I may go visit him because he left on a day when I didn't make it in the afternoon and I didn't really get a chance to say goodbye.  We have two new kids, Rhia and Nina, on the active kids' side.  They're still a bit shy so I don't know them terribly well, but they're opening up a bit with the other kids so I'm sure they'll be part of the gang in no time.
I'm noticing little things with the kids more.  Everything that used to seem so big has begun to feel routine, so it's the little things that get to me now.  Rinku, one of our older girls, is starting to gain her motherly instincts.  She is always asking to hold the other kids or will play with the two babies, Sonali and Jyotsni.  It's wonderful to really be able to see that despite her physical handicapped her mind is still going strong.  The same seems to be happening with a lot of our mentally handicapped kids as well.  For some reason, when I first got here the two sides of my floor did not mix very much, but that's definitely not true any longer.  It's very good to see the kids interacting with each other and helping to take care of each other. 

I've also made two small trips to villages just outside of Kolkata and one major trip recently.

I went with a friend of mine, Jessica, to a village called Bishnipur about 5 hours (by train) outside of Kolkata to do some temple hopping.  The temples were all Hindu temples built, I think, around the 12th century, but I don't quite remember.  They were very beautiful and the whole time we were there all I could think about is how much time and manpower went into the terracotta carvings on all of the temples.  It really helps to remind a person of just how dedicated the Indian people are to their respective religions.  However, the real adventure was getting to and from Bishnipur.  We had quite a time trying to figure out what train to take and where we should be sitting.  On our first train, we sat on the wrong end of the train:  It was really two trains together and apparently at the first stop they would detach and one end would go to Bubaneshwar, the other to Bishnipur.  We freaked out a bit at first, but the conductor helped us get to the right part of the train when we stopped.  On our way out, we got on the train we were told to get on.  This train was going to Shalimar, a station in Kolkata that neither of us had been to.  Luckily, at one of the early stops we found a train going to Howrah, the major Kolkata station, and we got on that.  It  all worked out perfect in the end and we got a little bit of excitement as well.

With another friend, Gerrit, I went to a village called Baraipur to visit the MC home for TB patients out there.  We were a little frustrated at first, because the plan was to bring 2 children to see their mother out there but the Father who was supposed to help us ended up forgetting.  We decided to go anyways, though, and had a lovely time.  The village was very beautiful and very quiet and the Sister at the home was incredibly delightful.  It made both of us very happy.

Finally, I made a trip to Bodhgaya, Rajgir, and Nalanda to see various Buddhist holy sites.  Bodhgaya was beautiful, but also very touristy.  The temples there were all beautiful but there wasn't much else there to do except sit around and talk to other foreigners or the monks, unless you had plans to do one of the meditation courses (which I didn't).  It was definitely nice to finally be somewhere quiet, though.  Rajgir is about 2 hours outside of Bodhgaya, and although a dusty little town, an absolutely gorgeous place to be.  There was a hilltop temple on the site where Buddha had spent 6 years in meditation before moving to Bodhgaya where he gained enlightenment.  There were also a few other temples as well as a hot springs.  It was a very hilly area which made me very happy because I really missed the feeling of being outdoors with the sound of the wind in your ears.  Finally, in Nalanda were the ruins of a famous Buddhist university that was around from the 5th-12th c.  It was destroyed by a group of Muslim warriors, but the remains were excavated in 1957 and are now open to the public for viewing.  It was particularly interesting because they let you walk around and in the ruins and really get to know and understand the layout of the university.  Definitely a good thing to have gotten out of Kolkata and found a little peace.  Plus, I got my nails painted by a little Indian girl while I was waiting for my train!  That totally made my night.

So, that's been the last few weeks here in Kolkata.  I'm down to less than 1 month for the third time now.  Mixed feelings as usual, but with the heat and the exhaustion, I think I'll be about ready to get home by the end of May.  See you all then!

Shesh!

We took the kids to a local theme park, Nicco Park, on Wednesday.  Even the day before, when the kids had just heard that they would be going out, they were all super excited.  It's really wonderful to see them so excited!
The trip itself was a lot of fun for everyone, even the 3 sisters that went along with us.  The kids really loved going on the rides, like the merry-go-round and the kiddie boats.  But mostly, I think they just loved being able to run around and cause all kinds of trouble, which they most certainly did.
I spent most of my time with Vishal.  Since he can't walk, he needed to be pushed around in a wheelchair, so I handled that.  My goodness, he's a wiggly thing!  It was almost impossible to get him to sit up straight and he kept kicking, making it very hard to keep the wheelchair straight.  But he was just so excited, how could he help it, right?  He's such a cute kid, too.  He really loves the word "Shesh," which means "Finished" in English, so as we walked around, he would say "Shesh," I would say it back, and he'd squeal and kick his legs out.  How could you be mad at that?
We also had a little picnic with ice cream and the masys brought a portable radio, so we danced and sang to Hindi songs in a little grassy area in the park.  And there was shade!  It's gotten so hot in Kolkata lately that finding an area with cool shade is definitely a source of joy.  All in all, an awesome day.

I also wanted to mention that one of the children on the mentally handicapped side of our floor, Kushi (who has Down's Syndrome), is being adopted.  Her parents and new brother are in Kolkata now and they're going to be taking her home on Sunday.  From what I've seen of them, they're wonderful people.  She's going to be welcomed into a very loving home, I'm sure.

These kids, I honestly can't even begin to describe how good they make me feel.

Something really happened on Saturday afternoon.

I was at Shishu Bhavan, holding Kajol on my lap on the exercise mats.  One of our boys, Bijoy, was laying on a diagonal at my feet.  He had been looking at me, so I smiled at him and started to make faces, which made him smile.  He doesn't have much control of his limbs, pretty severe cerebral palsy, but I held out my hand just to see if he would reach out to grab it.  He managed to do so and I congratulated him on it and started to rub his hand.  He then somehow managed enough control of his little thumb to start to rub my hand with it as well.  Considering that it took so much of his mental energy to move his hand, the fact that he was able to work his little thumb to rub my hand was beautiful.
This is why I'm here.

You may never see me again.

I may just hide out in India for the rest of my life. 
Well, okay, that's a lie.  I can't afford that.  But I will be staying on another three months.  I just can't help myself; I'm in love.

Here's the basic rundown on my reasoning:  There's a lot I still want to do here.  There are some aspects of Indian life I still want to explore.  There are a number of things I'd like to work on at Shishu Bhavan.  I'm still discovering new and exciting things about Kolkata.  
I don't know when I'll be back. 
I'm changing my program of study, but I don't yet know to what.  When I get home, there would be no reason for me to go back to school as I would have no idea what classes I should be taking. 
So, basically, if I'm going to be taking the rest of the year off of school, why not spend it doing something that has a positive impact on the rest of the world.  And something that I really want to do, as selfish as that is.  
It makes a lot more sense when I take the time to really flesh it out, but the one other time I did that, when I wrote to my mom, it took an awful long time.  But I really have put a lot of time and thought into this decision and I do feel that it's the right thing to do.   
I haven't got the exact details yet, but I'm going to Bangkok on Feb. 14 to get a new Visa, will stay until that Visa is up in late May, and will be in California for a bit, then back to Seattle at the end of May or beginning of June.

And now that that's out of the way... 
Sorry that I haven't written so long.  I've been busy making preparations to leave, discerning whether or not to stay, figuring out if staying is possible, and making staying happen.  And in between all that, there's of course work and seeing people and shopping and laundry and a number of other things.  But I think I probably owe you all a blog after that announcement.

This past Sunday, I went with my Irish lady friend to visit another of the rural villages outside of  Kolkata.  She goes out there every Sunday with a priest friend of hers to attend mass and visit with a few of the families she helps out there.  It's amazing how different things can be just an hour outside of Kolkata.  Once past the dirt road around the marsh, still wet and muddy from the recent rain, and over the rickety bamboo bridge, I was absolutely amazed at the quite and the GREEN of this village.  There were trees, bushes, moss, various vegetable plants, just green everywhere.  And you could not hear a single car horn.  I honestly think that my ears were ringing from the quiet.  After the initial shock at how beautiful it all looked and sounded, I started noticing life in the village.  I got to walk around a bit before mass and I was in love with the way that all aspects of life go on right there in front of you.  So much happens in the little ponds surrounding all of the houses.  There were women washing dishes, doing laundry, children bathing, men working to clear weeds.  And it was all shared with you.  But, in contrast to life in Kolkata, it's not an in-your-face kind of  openness; there's much more modesty and humility in it all.  I can't describe it much better than to say that it was beautiful. 
After mass, we went to visit one of the nearby families, over yet another rickety bamboo bridge.  They made the most delicious breakfast I have ever tasted, consisting of paratha, subji, and omelette.  Once we were stuffed, we visited with an older woman with a hip injury living in one of the rooms of the house.  She is not related to the family, but loves and is loved by one of the sons of the family and so they take care of her.  She, like so many in India is in so much pain with no hope of relief, and yet is so strong and beautiful that her smile makes you want to cry.  I'm hoping to be able to visit the village a few more times before I leave in May in order to see this woman again and get to talk to her a bit more.  

Things at work have been a bit busier, as Sr. Beattina has gone on retreat and so there are more little odd jobs that need taking care of.  I've been working a bit more with a 3-yr-old boy named Peter.  He's partially blind and a bit mentally retarded due to neglect as an infant and toddler.  I think he's pretty close to being able to walk on his own, so that's my goal with him for the next few months.  I don't know that we'll get all the way there, but that's what I plan on working towards.  Sr. Beattina has also asked me to work a bit on sensory stimulation with our two new girls, Sonali and Jyotsni, and to work on implementing a program of relaxation before dinner in the afternoons.  It's clearly going to be a busy couple of months, but I'm really looking forward to it.  I like to keep busy.

I hope all is well back home, and I'll see everyone in May!

Namaskar, 
Melissa

Namaste, Sundari, aap kaisi hai?

It's been a long time.  I'm sorry.

It's good to be back.  Settling has taken a lot of time and energy, though, and with the heat and starting up at work again, I've been feeling rather drained.  It takes just a little too much energy to walk back and forth from Mother House and Shishu Bhavan twice a day, but that hasn't really stopped me from doing it.  I love those kids too much.  
So, let me give you the highlights:

- They grow so fast!  Getting back from 2 weeks in Thailand (to renew my Visa), I looked around the room and thought, "Jeez, they're so much bigger than I remember!"
- For a friend, Jyotsni is doing really well.  There is one volunteer who has been spending a lot of time with her and it's been really good.  She can stand with minimal support, is saying a few short words such as "baba," and is genuinely curious about the world in general.  You would be proud.
- There's a new boy, Vishal.  He's another cerebral palsy case, along with microencephaly.  He is very smart, though, and we're working on speech therapy with him a lot.  He knows quite a bit of Bengali, and we just taught him to count to 10.  He's a ball.  He calls across the room, "Ooooooh Vishal!  Oooooh Auntie!" at me because he knows I'll respond by making funny noises at him.
- I'm still working with Peter quite a bit.  He's going to school now, so I have less time now, but I'm incredibly glad he's at school.  You can already tell it's doing him a world of good.  I've never seen him smile quite as much as he does now.  
- Kajol got chickenpox while I was gone, but they've cleared up by now.  Poor thing was doing so much crying because she couldn't itch herself, but she was a trooper and got through it.  She's still my babes.

You can tell the heat is getting to everyone, but most of them are still making great progress.  It's a beautiful thing, guys, to be able to watch them go through so much.  Five months is a long time and a lot has happened since I first got there, and I'm so grateful to have had this opportunity to watch their improvements, and even the regression of some, knowing that at some point an Auntie will take them on and get them back to where they need to be.

As for "home life,"  it's finally getting settled and I'm really liking that feeling.  I've moved into an area in one of the guesthouses that's for people working in NGOs (and therefore staying longer), which I'm incredibly happy about.  It means that I've got a fridge, a kitchen, and a really nice, spacious room.  I pay monthly, so I don't have to worry about giving money to the door man every morning.  I can decorate and make it feel like my place.  I'm pretty sure I'll be there throughout the rest of my stay.
Sudder St. is awesome.  There aren't too many of my fellow long-term Mama T volunteers around at the moment, as they've all moved closer to Mother House, but that's not so bad.  I see them at breakfast, work, sometimes lunch, and sometimes dinner.  The rest of the time I spend networking with the Indian shopkeepers.  It's ridiculously fun.  And I get a lot of free chai and juice as a result.

I think the best part about having stayed, though, is that I'm doing so much more exploring.  I really feel like Kolkata has been telling me that I shouldn't go about wasting the next few months I have.  She wants me to see, hear, touch, feel, taste everything I possibly can.  And I am trying so hard.  The good and the bad, from stomach pain to the beauty of the Botanical Gardens to the dirt and grime of the train station to the noise of the construction outside my window.  I embrace it.  Kolkata bahut kupsurat hai.  Kolkata is very beautiful.

And one more quick story...

... that I had meant to write about but forgot, I guess.

Friday I worked the afternoon shift at Shishu Bhavan because I was feeling a little down.  There are these two Indian women, a mother and daughter, who work there in the afternoons and are incredibly sweet and very inquisitive.  As I was sitting with a little boy named Mohit, just keeping him company because he, too, seemed to be a bit down, the daughter walks over to me and says, "You are becoming beautiful.  You are more and more beautiful each time I see you.  There must be something in the Indian air that is making you. beautiful."  The mother, who is always right there with her daughter (they're so cute!) then says, "Yes.  Kolkata is making you beautiful." 
And of course it's always nice to be called beautiful.  But what I really loved about that conversation is the truth in those statements.  There is something about Kolkata that I think has changed me, made my soul a bit more beautiful.  Whether or not that is actually reflected on the exterior, I can't judge.  But I'm definitely certain that what is on the inside is much more beautiful.
Also, when I told her about what a hard time I was having making the decision to stay and making things work, the daughter told me, "Do not worry.  It will all work out."  That was a big comfort.  And they did, so I thank her among many others for that.

Balo maa...

I am in love.  Her name is Kajol, and she giggled for me for the first time today.
I was sitting with her in my arms and feeding her this afternoon, when one of the masys came up and began to imitate the way that Kajol chews.  She started to talk to Kajol in either hindi or bengali (I still can't tell which is which).  I don't know WHAT she said, but when she was finished, Kajol gets this huge smile on her face.  Now, I was pretty excited about this because I've only ever seen her smile once before.  The masy talked to her a bit more and her smile grows wider and she giggle-squeals in that way that young kids do.  I am ecstatic.  The masy walks away, but Kajol does not stop smiling.  We sit there together for another minute or so, both giggling and smiling as if the funniest thing in the world just happened.  Eventually, I had to go back to feeding her, so we worked on that for a while.  Still, although she's not a big fan of feeding time, that big smile of hers continued to break out between bites for another ten minutes.  
I'm sure you all have heard the saying about loving someone so much it hurts.
I know exactly how that feels now.

That will be 36, madam. Thank you.

Sheesh.  Everyone is leaving.  There are only three of us Seattle kids left:  Jeremiah, Devin, and myself.  It's really weird not to have the others here because we became such a community over the past few weeks.  As Anthony, who is not a Seattleite but was kind of adopted by our group, and I were eating the traditional "Dinner at 7 at Khalsa's" the other night with a new friend we made that afternoon, we were both very much surprised by how quiet our table seemed.  We had gone from a group big enough to take up two tables to a group of 3.  Jeremiah and Devin were out with some other friends of theirs, which is why they weren't there either.  Kolkata definitely does feel quite a bit different now that our usual routine has been broken.  But certainly not a bad different.  It will simply be a lesson in making friends.  Or perhaps getting to know the casual acquaintances I've already made.  Either way, I'm looking forward to the next few weeks despite missing everyone who has left.

Now, down to business.  The Doctor came to Shishu Bhavan last Saturday in order to evaluate our three new children (I need to stop calling them babies, as they're not.), Sonali, Jyotsni, and darling Kajol (I also shouldn't show favoritism, but I can't help it.).  He normally comes every Saturday but had been working in some rural villages to the North for a while and Sister had asked him not to come by during Christmas because we were so busy preparing the program, so this was his first visit in about 2 months.  I wasn't aware that he was coming back so I missed that first visit, but yesterday I went in the afternoon to see and talk to him and take pictures so that we could make profiles for the new kids detailing the types of exercises they should be doing.  
I really enjoyed getting a chance to talk to the Dr. and learn a bit more about what my children are going through, what will help them improve, and why.  Most of the children currently housed in the handicapped section of my floor now have Cerebral Palsy of varying degrees of intensity and affecting various limbs of their bodies.  We went through the exercise routine for each of the three new children and talked about his work with Cerebral Palsy in children, which is his special focus.  He works at two MC homes, Shishu Bhavan and Daya Dan, an institution in India centered around the treatment of Cerebral Palsy, and also dedicates some of his time to going into rural villages to work with families that cannot afford to have their children taken care of professionally.  For these families, he gives them an introduction to Cerebral Palsy, evaluates their child, and helps them learn a daily exercise routine for their child.
This conversation really piqued my interest.  Because we have so many children with Cerebral Palsy, I had done a little bit of research on Cerebral Palsy, but never really got too into it.  My focus lately has mainly been on the childcare aspect of what I'm doing and not so much on dealing with their disabilities.  However, after hearing what he had to say about my kids, the importance of dealing with the disability as well as with the other aspects of the child's life really hit me.  Doing tasks like feeding, changing diapers and playing with the children is obviously very important, but each of those is affected in some way by the Cerebral Palsy.  I definitely felt more confident while exercising with Kajol this afternoon having seen the Doctor the afternoon before and understanding why it was that I was doing what I was doing.  I'm going to try and continue to go to Shishu Bhavan on Saturday afternoons so that I can have a few more chats with the Doctor and learn more about the other kids at Shishu.
Also, this is probably a bit conceited, but it's a lot of fun being the one that the new volunteers go to with questions because I've been there so long.  I love getting to tell people about my children and helping new volunteers learn about the kids. 

Oh baba, time is going by so fast.  In thinking about how many Saturdays I'll have to talk to the Doctor, it hit me that I've only got a month and a day left.  Wow. 

Namaste, all.
Melissa

Sundery, Sundery, I love you. Sundery, Sundery, yes I do...

It has been a long day.

I did not go to the volunteer breakfast this morning, as a Sudder St. friend of mine was teaching me how to make his delicious Nepali Chutney.  I went straight to Shishu Bhavan from there and got there a little bit early, just as the masys were beginning to arrive.  As I was sitting on the bench outside my kids'  floor, one of the masys, the one I respect the most, came to me and said, "Sundery dead." and made the sign of the cross.  I didn't really hit me at first, but as soon as it did, I rushed over to the volunteer breakfast area to see one of the other volunteers who I  knew was particularly attached to her.  She wasn't there, so I just went back to Shishu Bhavan and got started with the kids.
It was really hard to see the way the masys walked around in a daze all morning, and heartbreaking to see the one masy who knew her best and took care of her most begin to cry as she stood in front of the empty bed.
The woman who died, Sundery, was 39 years old and had been at Shishu Bhavan all of her life.  She was severely deformed, and rarely ever left her bed.  She could not speak, but could smile, cry, and show other forms of emotion.  She was beautiful.
This is one of the reasons why I get so upset when people criticize the way the Missionaries work.  The MCs worked hard to keep Sundery alive and well and allowed her to live much longer than she should have.  Despite the fact that she could not move or talk, Sundery was able to bring joy into the lives of millions of Sisters, masys, volunteers, and visitors with just her smile.  Her life could have been wasted, but it was not.  
I know that she was in a lot of pain and that God is taking care of her now, but it was so hard to sit there feeding baby Khajol with that empty bed in front of me.  
Please, everyone, keep her in your thoughts and prayers.  And remember always that a smile can mean a lot to a person.