- A carrier of God's love, especially to the poorest of the poor, setting all on fire with love for Him and for one another,
- A healing touch of God that cures all diseases,
- A soothing smile of God that warms all hearts,
- God's own language of love that all hearts understand.
Right on, sisters.
Four sisters at Kalighat are particularly near and dear to my heart. Sister Georgina is the "head sister" at Kalighat; she's in charge. She can almost always be found at the desk near the front of Kalighat, taking care of MC business regarding the sisters, expenses or patients, and always with a huge smile and some encouraging words. Sister Pei Ling is from Singapore, and she's in charge of all the patients. At no more than 5-foot-2, Sister Pei Ling's compact and efficient body scoots from one project to another, whether it's finding medical supplies, making a patient take her medicine, or consulting with Susan or other volunteers trained in the medical profession on care for a particular patient. She has a high, loud voice, and is one tough cookie. Sister Arul Prakash smiles more than anyone I've ever known. She's originally from an area near Chennai in Southern India, and loves to show me the handful of "snaps" she has of her family, and even of her before she joined the MC's. Sister Arul Prakash handles the finances for Kalighat, and if you get her talking, she loves to tell you stories. She likes me in particular, because my name is close to that of her grand-nephew, Denny, and when he came to visit Kalighat, we had a grand old time playing together. Sister Olinda is another native Indian, hailing from a small village near Darjeeling in the North. Sister Olinda, funny enough, lived in Dallas for 4 years working out of the MC house there, so we've bonded over that. Apparently my name is rather challenging to pronounce for Indians, so it comes out as "Dennis." I love hearing the sisters calling me Dennis; it never fails to make me grin.
After the daily volunteer tea breaks I walk upstairs to the roof, where Sister Olinda picks out the sweet green peas for me from the kitchen, and sometimes we fold laundry outside. We talk, and I can understand only about every other word she says (her English is good, but with a thick accent). But that really doesn't matter, because her smile and her eyes are so expressive, delivering peace and comfort to whomever engages her in conversation. She's a little bit of a thing at 5-foot-2 and has a worn-out tattoo in the middle of her forehead, an indication of her tribe from her village. You never can tell how old any of the sisters are (some look about fifteen); she looks like she's about 40, but in truth she's 50. The highlight of my day is spending time with Sister Olinda, even if I can't understand everything she says.
