Today we went to the old age home of the Missionaries of Charity, Carambolim to give away clothes and other things which could be used by others. Carambolim, in Tiswadi taluka, is on the way to Old Goa skirting Neura and Mandur along the way when you turn right coming from Vasco at Cotta Mansion, Agasaim. The sylvan Karmali station on the Konkan Railway route is just opposite which overlooks lakes where birds find sanctuary.
The Missionaries of Charity, Carambolim is the oldest home in Goa started by Mother Teresa in 1964. As the simple board announces it is a home for the aged, the destitute and the dying. Sister Rosario said they also keep the mentally unstable. Just opposite the imposing Carambolim church of John the Baptist the dwelling reposes with great dignity and aquiesance on the land. We got there at their lunch time at 1130. Dad had brought along fresh hot vegetable and beef samosas for the inmates to be served at tea.
As we sped back with Kevin, my brother at the wheel, one could not but be chastened by how some, abandoned by their own families have to eke out the evening of their lives.
While leaving I asked Sister if there was anything in particular the Home needed. Sister said they needed a nebulizer - for in the cold months the old find it difficult to breathe.
Yesterday evening I helped dad to put some of mum's lovely chiffon and crepe dresses in a cardboard box to give to the Home. As I placed each dress into the box I was imagining how beautiful mum looked in it - during my school days in Don Bosco, Matunga - and I was warmed by her infectious smile.
The Missionaries of Charity, Carambolim is the oldest home in Goa started by Mother Teresa in 1964. As the simple board announces it is a home for the aged, the destitute and the dying. Sister Rosario said they also keep the mentally unstable. Just opposite the imposing Carambolim church of John the Baptist the dwelling reposes with great dignity and aquiesance on the land. We got there at their lunch time at 1130. Dad had brought along fresh hot vegetable and beef samosas for the inmates to be served at tea.
As we sped back with Kevin, my brother at the wheel, one could not but be chastened by how some, abandoned by their own families have to eke out the evening of their lives.
While leaving I asked Sister if there was anything in particular the Home needed. Sister said they needed a nebulizer - for in the cold months the old find it difficult to breathe.
Yesterday evening I helped dad to put some of mum's lovely chiffon and crepe dresses in a cardboard box to give to the Home. As I placed each dress into the box I was imagining how beautiful mum looked in it - during my school days in Don Bosco, Matunga - and I was warmed by her infectious smile.
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