Before I begin this mail to all of you I want all of you to understand that this story is one of the hardest stories that I have ever written at any time in my 26 trips to India.

 

The story itself is my story..Not anyone else’s….It is my personal feelings and my personal emotions only. In short it is my story but it’s also related to the end of this trip.

 

I do not want to offend anyone with this story. But I do want you to understand that poor people are everywhere that I go.

 

A family may live in a doorway or in a tent on the side of the road. A little kid, all dirty dressed in rags may come to you, reach out his or hand for a few Rupees , an old lady may be sitting on the sidewalk with a small cup or basket asking for a little money. Or you may visit a slum area with makeshift housing for families and people with no running water.

 

It all makes you very sad to see and you know that it would be disrespectful to take photos and write about any of it , after all these people are poor. My family was poor a long time ago but not this kind of poor. This is heartbreaking.

 

Yes we have poor here in the USA too but we have help for the poor here with programs by the State and Federal government. It may not be much but it is something for the people who are truly poor to give hope that they will make it to the next day like my Mother did with her family long ago. India does not have many of these programs that we have for the poor. So living in India you never know what the next day will bring.

 

As I have written in almost every email and told every child that I met on this trip, Education is the key to a good life.

 

As you have learned in my Emails over the years , I never take photos of poor people no matter the situation. I do not lower myself to that level with the need to show people in one of their darkest moments of life of being poor.

 

I remember my family was once very poor when I was about 7 years old. My Mother Sister and I were living in the Mystic Ave Projects in Somerville MA 2 River Road apt # 22.

 

Although I never understood anything because I was so small , I never forgot those days. Two times I remember my Mother going to the Rectory of St Polycarp Church telling the local priest Fr Sigadelhi that we had no food and he gave us a paper slip for a $15 food order at a local Supermarket Market on Broadway Somerville in Winter Hill just up the street. That time in my Mothers life was not a proud moment. and I remember how grateful she was for the priest’s help. She was alone with 2 small kids and my father was never the same when he came home from World World Two and was nowhere to be found. It was a very hard time for my Mother then, like so many Mothers even now.

 

So to get back to my story in India…..

 

It is my last afternoon in Kolkata and I ask Dibyendu to hire a car and take me back to a place that I had visited many many times in my early trips to Kolkata long long ago.

 

The place was International Mission of Hope, ( IMH) , an Orphanage at 2 Nimak Mahal Road. It is located down by the waterfront shipping docks in Ekbalpore in Kolkata at the Marine Quarters.

 

When Dibyendu and I arrived in the car to the Ekbalpore area at the docks. I told Dibyendu that the building that we are looking for is about 3 stories tall and yellow and on each window there is a ship’s anchor made as part of the steel bars on each window. The building also has a big gate at the front near the street.

 

After 15 minutes of driving from street to street I say to Dibyendu That’s It ! We just drove past it on the left side.

 

I jump out of the car and start walking back to the front gate of IMH with a big smile on my face, while the driver parks the Uber car off the roadway to the side of the road and then Dibyendu joins me walking to the front gate.

 

When I arrived at the front gate with Dibyendu my emotions started to run away with me. It was at this very gate that all 3 of my children were carried into the upstairs of this orphanage and given proper medical care ,warm food, a crib with warm blankets and a place to call home for over a year’s time with wonderful Massies looking after them day and night. This was long before any one of my children were assigned to the OBrien Family in Boston for adoption. That all came much later after my children first arrived at IMH.

 

I visited this front gate of IMH about 10 years ago. I had stopped and just stood across the street and looked at the building and front gate at that time and said a prayer for every child that went in and out of the front gate about 2,500 babies. When IMH closed around 2002. I was told that the building was turned into a Nursing Home but I never knew for sure about that…I did not want to bother anyone to go inside because I thought older people lived there now.

 

I always loved visiting IMH and the children and Massies many many times during my early trips to India and still hold those visits very close to my heart. Those Massies worked very hard and truly LOVED every child in their care. Each Massie looked after 2 children. When the Massies were feeding one baby they would be rocking the other with their foot as the baby was in an infant chair placed on the floor at the Massies foot.

 

So here Dibyendu and I are standing right at the front gate of IMH..For the life of me I could not believe the small sign installed on the front gate.

It said Mission of Mercy School of Nursing……

 

This is where my emotions within me took over….

 

For the life of me I could not believe that IMH has been a School for Nursing Student’s…not a Nursing Home for Seniors.

 

I could not believe it ….

 

My youngest girl Mellissa was brought into IMH in 1993 before she came home to us in Boston. She has always been a very smart girl and a very hard working caring girl.

 

Can you guess what profession she has chosen in life ?

 

Melissa is a Registered Nurse in the Boston area and very soon this year she will have her Masters Degree in Nursing.

 

To think that her life started here where I stand is now a Nursing School and she has become a qualified nurse is just over the top for me..tears start to run down my face. Poor Dibyendu he has no idea what is going on but he knows that I am upset ..

 

It was then that I started to walk across the street to take a better photo of the old IMH building when I saw a young girl a little bit away from me sitting at the side of the road looking up at me. I thought this might be her home. It was then that I got even more upset.

 

I am not ashamed to say that I was openly crying for this little girl thinking if IMH was not here long ago this could have been my Melissa or my Joanna or my Raymond I was very upset.

 

Dibyendu came to me and opened his arms and gave me a big hug to help me calm down. Dibyendu then explained to me and said , Ray , she is getting water to bring home. She is ok …

 

The young girl then stood up and just looked at me as she had no idea what was going on.

 

I wanted to help this little girl or give her something nice but my trip was over and this was the very last place to visit. I had nothing to give her except money.

I gave Dibyendu my camera and said please take a photo with me and the little girl.Tears still glowing from my eyes …

 

I walked up slowly to the little girl and gave her 3 @ 500 Rs notes. One bill for each of my kids…

 

After the photo was taken, I walked back to Dibyendu 30 feet away and when I turned around the girls Mother was standing with her looking at us.

 

I put my hands together and bowed my head to her and she smiled back to me.

 

I’m telling you to this day I still can not get over that stop at IMH to take a few photos of the building to show people the anchors in the windows and say a prayer for all the children and Massies who lived and worked there…

 

I never knew it would be so emotional for me.

 

A woman named Catherine said it right a few weeks ago to me after reading one of my stories of this trip. She said God was with me on this trip…

 

She was 100% right. At IMH there were 5 of us…Dibyendu and Myself , with God in the middle and the Little girl and her Mother across the street…

 

What a way to end this trip. The photo I took of the Mother and the Little girl was the last photo taken of this trip. It will be a photo I will never forget for the rest of my life.

 

Why is it that IMH became a School of Nursing ? Why is my Melissa a Nurse ? Why did Melissa come to us and have every opportunity in the world where this poor little girls’ opportunities will be very limited…and I am sure her life will not be easy.

 

I am sorry to say that I now have more questions than answers.

 

I plan to work until my last breath on this earth helping poor children as best that I can , and this story is one reason why.

 

I can’t forget my other two children Joanna IMH I989 a teacher….and my Raymond IMH 1997 he is handicapped.

 

All 3 of my kids are the Best thing since ice cream…each one has their own story and I love how they came to us..

 

Thanks for following this long story. I hope that you understand it and can read in between the lines of what I was trying to write…

 

Ray O