A Tapestry of Hearts

Solving Problems

Oct 25, 2024

Robert fidgeted anxiously, his fingers winding and unwinding the ribbon around the bouquet of flowers he held. The flowers were a gift for his sponsor, a woman he’d known for years but never met. He and his two older brothers had grown up at Shishya boys’ hostel, but Robert was the first among all the boys to be given the chance to meet his sponsors in person.

A Swiss couple had been supporting Robert since he was a child. Because the wife of the couple could speak English, she’d made an effort, through letters, to communicate with Robert over the years. Robert, now 20 years old, had come to know her as kind, joyful, resourceful, and encouraging. Most of all, she was a good woman, willing to come all the way to India to meet him.

He was full of jangled nerves. What if, when they met face to face, she didn’t like him? Before Robert had time to dwell further on possible outcomes, she appeared before him, exclaiming, "You are Robert!"

With an elated smile she grasped his hands and held his gaze for a long moment before pulling him into a warm, heartfelt hug.

Wanting to be polite, Robert asked, "What should I call you? In India, every relationship has a specific name, and it would be natural for me to call you Aunty.”

“What does Aunty mean?” she asked.

“Aunty is anyone whom you respect, who older than yourself, and is a polite way to address a woman,” he said with confidence.

Her face was thoughtful, but a definite frown showed on her forehead. “Does that mean there are many people that you would call Aunty?”

“Yes.”

“Then don’t call me Aunty,” she said. “Call me Susi.”

That ended the matter. He was Robert and she was Susi. Over time, their relationship deepened in caring and respect. They found mutual encouragement in understanding and helping each other. Robert was as unique as Susi—both were one-of-a-kind.

Robert's journey to this point had not been easy. He and his brothers were sent to Shishya because they were born into the Dehradun Leper Colony. His mother suffered from leprosy—Hanson’s disease; she wanted her children to have opportunities beyond the isolation and stigma of society. People on the streets of Dehradun avoided her, crossing the road when they saw her. She had experienced horrible loneliness from in life.

Despite her hardships, Robert’s mother worked diligently. Under the leadership of Agnes, a German nun who transformed the colony, the residents gained dignity through meaningful labour. Robert’s mother helped make textiles— thread made on spinning wheels which turned into rugs, shoulder bags, and tablecloths—organically dyed, handwoven on large looms and exported around the world. It was fine art, hard work, and she was proud of it.

Robert's father, who did not show signs of the disease, worked as a bus driver. He was well known for his skill driving through the treacherous roads of the Himalayan foothills. He took pride in his job, and later, when Robert bought a car to accommodate his son’s wheelchair, Robert’s father insisted on teaching him how to drive, passing on his own pride in his work.

Susi, who returned to India time and time again, was embraced by a growing community. Wherever she went, she spread kindness and compassion through her conversations. She was relentless in serving, never seeing a person’s caste, poverty, or even their dirt. What mattered to her was offering encouragement to whoever needed it, always giving them her full attention. Before long, she was bringing others from Switzerland—people with skills to support various projects across India. Her mission was simple: solve problems wherever possible.

Robert's life moved forward. After graduating from Shishya, he became a chemist, married, and found work at a mission hospital. Life was good—until the birth of their second child,

Anugrah, changed everything.

Anugrah was diagnosed with cerebral palsy. At first, Robert hoped his son would grow out of it, but as time passed, he had to accept the difficult reality. Still, he remembered what Susi had taught him: when faced with a challenge, you don't give up—you do everything you can to help.

Inspired by this, Robert immersed himself in learning about disabilities. With Susi’s encouragement, he began traveling to remote villages to find children with severe disabilities who had been hidden away from society. Gathering villagers, he shared his own journey from ignorance to understanding, urging parents to bring their children out of isolation and support them.

(Anugrah and Susi)

With Susi's encouragement, Robert founded the Anugrah Project, a school dedicated to children with disabilities. It became a renowned institution, providing for the physical, emotional, and psychological needs of the children it served. Robert’s compassion became widely recognized, and the Anugrah Project was integrated into Herbertpur Hospital, where he had once worked as a chemist. After training someone to take over the project, Robert retired, but his dedication to service continued. He opened a café within Anugrah, serving both the hospital and its outpatient clinic. Four of his eight employees have disabilities, reflecting his commitment to inclusion.

In later years, Robert’s father suffered a stroke and then a fall. Since Robert’s wife, Annie, was a nurse, it was decided that their home was the best place to care for him. After nearly a year of living with them, Robert’s father passed away.

The memorial service was held in the leper colony where Robert’s mother still lived. It wasn’t a formal event filled with praise but an honest remembrance of Robert’s father. Many heads of institutions attended, along with the colony residents. Some sat in chairs, others sat on rugs or in ways that accommodated a dangling arm or paralyzed limbs. My husband and I had the honor of sitting beside Robert’s mother, because Robert made us feel like family.

I had known Robert’s mother for years. She was always kind, even when she had little. I remembered how she would eagerly search for an egg under her hen whenever my husband, Yip, visited, just to make him a special omelet. That small act always meant so much to her.

She told me a story I’ve never forgotten:

One hot summer day, she and a friend from the colony had been walking through the back streets of the bazaar in Dehradun, tired and thirsty. No one would offer them water because they were lepers, not even for money. But then, as they walked down an alley, a woman opened her door.

Robert’s mother took her chance. “Can we have some water, please?”

The woman, surprised, said, “please wait.” She went back into her house and returned with two glasses and water and a jug. She filled the glasses to the brim, and handing each a glass, said, “please drink.”

Robert’s mother tried to drink without touching the glass, as was the custom for “untouchables.” But the woman sternly corrected her: “No! Don’t drink like that. Put the glass to your lips.” This act of kindness—a simple glass of water—was rare in her lifetime, and she smiled whenever she recalled that moment.

At the memorial, Robert was attentive to every guest, no matter their condition. Some of the colony residents had no feet, others had paralyzed limbs, but they all attended, bringing their own rugs and pillows. I, too, am a handicapped person. With 13 screws in my neck, I find standing very difficult. Sitting in a normal chair is also difficult for any length of time. Robert made sure we all felt included, always thinking of others' limitations. His words were gentle and reassuring: “If you feel comfortable standing, you may, but if it’s difficult for you, please remain seated. Just be at ease.” In doing so, Robert made everyone feel accepted.

(Susi, Robert and Annie)

It was clear that Robert had inherited Susi’s servant heart. She had mentored him throughout his life, and her lessons continued to live on through his actions.

Though Robert has retired, his heart for service is relentless, and he continues to care for and uplift those around him—just as Susi had taught him.

*Susi did not attend the memorial, for she left this world last June—Robert’s father joined her in a place where there are no leper colonies.

Last Friday, Shishya School hosted a Sports Day for the Anugrah students. About 280 people came, as each student needed at least one person to support him throughout. Anugrah staff and volunteers, and drivers and workers all arrived in support of the children. It was a new kind of sports day; non-competitive, all about inclusion—running the race is to win!

Anugrah sitting is on the left at Shishya School, and on the right sits a Shishya School student who has only one leg, and has learned to use a prosthetic leg via help from the Anugrah School. He also competed in a race, running without his wheelchair.