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.