On December 27, 2022, our beloved Zelda passed from this world into eternity. I am still trying to process it all. I am still trying to figure out how to do life without her in it. We all know that death is a part of life; it will come to us all, and we will helplessly watch as it comes to those we love. Yet when we are faced head-on with the death of a loved one, it is like a “sucker punch” to our gut. I have put off writing about Zelda for months. It is like my final goodbye to her. In my heart, I didn’t want to face this, but it is time.
Zelda had been struggling with health issues for a period of time. She was very private about it all. In the end, it was discovered too late that she had stage 4 kidney failure. She did not suffer long. She fell seriously ill and was admitted to hospital on a Thursday and died the following Tuesday. In fact, she was talking, laughing, and eating with the other Sunshine mothers who daily visited her and brought her soup. God in his mercy did not let her suffer. But this made it all the more of a shock for all of us. We were under the impression that she was improving and would pull out of it, but we were wrong. God called her home.
I was in the United States when I received the message from my colleague, Delcio, “Please. Be strong. Zelda is no longer alive.” It was over an hour until I could even remove my hand from my mouth. The shock was so intense. I could only keep repeating, “No.” again and again. It just couldn’t be. How could this amazing woman of God who gave completely and selflessly of herself each and every day be gone. She had so much yet to live for!
I was due to fly back to Mozambique the following week. I felt heartsore to not be in Mozambique to grieve alongside our Sunshine family and her family. I wanted to be there to hold the children and to cry with them. Yet a wise friend impressed upon me that God had a plan, that God knew this would happen and how it would happen, and that for His reasons, He chose for me to be away and come in at a later time. I trusted that He would use me when He needed me there. And He did.
When someone first dies, we are surrounded by well-meaning people as well as gifts of flowers and food. Yet this all fades away in the days following the funeral. This is just when I would be arriving, and so I began preparing myself to return to a very different Mozambique than I had left. I began praying, seeking, and discerning how to minister to the many mothers and children who were mourning Zelda, how to help us all move on in a way that would honor her. The trouble was, I first had to minister to myself in dealing with her loss before I could minister to others, and I just could not find a way to make any sense of her death.
I don't think it is even possible to share who Zelda was and what Zelda meant to us all.
She was our first Sunshine mother. The first woman to embark on this grand vision God gave us to care for orphans and widows in their distress… what the Bible describes as true religion accepted by God as pure and faultless. We’ve done a lot of learning together over the years. She has undoubtedly had the most input and influence on our Sunshine House program of anyone. Our program is what it is today because of Zelda.
Zelda has loved and cared for literally hundreds of children in her community projects. She was the reason we started the Beacons of Light Community Projects for preschool aged children. It was a natural decision since all of the children from the community were always in her yard playing anyway! They knew they were in a safe place where they were loved.
Zelda was an example and a voice of wisdom for all of our Sunshine mothers. They looked to her for all things. All things.
Zelda was an anchor for Delcio and me. She was our "source". She was a model for everything. We could go to her with any question or request. She was always there. She was sound, stable, and full of wisdom. Even now, I catch myself constantly saying, “Ask Zelda” or “Let’s call Zelda” when we face an issue.
Zelda was a friend. But so much deeper than that. She was so special. I've spent so many hours with her. As I reflect on the time we sat together doing the most simple of things- combing through a child's hair, shelling beans, or waiting at hospital consults, I am even more moved by the quiet impact she has had on my life that I didn't even realize.
Zelda was held in esteem by all those in the community. They often came to her for assistance of many kinds. It was a rare day to not see someone at her gate. Even the children of the community looked to her. So often when we were there, we could see little ones kneeling down and peering under the crack of the gate to see what was going on in her yard.
Zelda began her life calling as the mother of Cecilia, Madalena, and Antonio in 2015. It was not easy to be the “instant mother” of a teenager, an angry young girl, and the sorrowful toddler who all had just experienced the death of both their mother and father. Zelda stood firm in her calling over the years- loving each one of them back to life and holding them to the same standards with which she was raised. I can see her now in Cecilia, the oldest child she raised in Sunshine House 1. Cecilia is truly her daughter. I see Zelda’s righteousness and inner strength in Cecilia. I love being around Cecilia for the same reasons I always loved being around Zelda- you could trust her and laugh with her, knowing she did not have any hidden agendas and that she wanted nothing from you except your companionship.
Two years ago, when our foundation was faced with the challenge of accepting a physically challenged little girl who could not walk, it was Zelda who took her in. Having a physically challenged family member in Mozambique is considered a curse on the family. But Zelda did not care; she did not hesitate in accepting Anabela into the family and committing to the effort it took to care for her. Accepting Anabela also meant taking in her teenaged brother on his holidays from the program he attended during the school year as well as providing a home for their 8-year-old brother, Ivan. Ivan adored Zelda even more than the cake icing she would allow him to lick from the bowl after making a cake. To this day, he stops by the house on his way home from school most days. He just sits there for awhile. Being there is soothing for him.
Zelda loved God. Her life showed her awe and respect for Him. She lived her life to serve Him in whatever capacity to which He called her. When she was young, she wanted to be a nun. She went for training but had to leave the program and return home due to an illness. She was willing to give her life to God. He just had other things in mind for her. He called her to be a mother to our children instead of being a sister to the church. For this, we are grateful.
Zelda was righteous. She stood by her values and never clouded her decisions. She did what was right and required this of her children as well. You always knew where she stood…and it was on very solid ground.
On her birthday, our Sunshine family gathered together to honor her life. Each child wrote a letter telling what she meant to them. Many tears were shed as they read these letters and presented them to her children, Cecilia, Madalena, and Antonio. We then gave God thanks and praise for the time He allowed her to be a part of our lives. Finally, we shared the birthday cake that should have been hers on this day. It was most certainly not as beautiful or tasty as the ones she so lovingly baked for us over the years, but this is just another part of her that we now must do without.
Shortly after my return to Mozambique, we travelled to pay our respects to Zelda’s relatives at their family home in Manjacaze. Manjacaze is almost a five hour drive from our home in Matola. Once we arrived there, it was another hour of traveling back back back long and dirty and bumpy roads until we arrived deep in the bush bush at the home where she grew up. The words I think of to describe the family land are “precious” and “quaint”. A grouping of cement rondavels with thatched roofs formed a circle on the land. An outdoor kitchen was behind them. The homes and the property were very well maintained. It was clear that her family loved, respected, and valued their land.
Her family was so kind to us as they welcomed us and showed us to the family burial plot. It was set on the back of their property. The burial plots were as beautifully maintained as their homes- neat, clean, and surrounded with flowering plants. We stood around Zelda’s recently dug grave and prayed. In Mozambican custom, each of us planted a flower on the mound of dirt and watered it. It was heart wrenching to be at her gravesite. For the first time it truly hit me that she was no longer with us, nor would she be coming back.
We walked back to where their houses were located. They set out the plastic chairs for us to sit on, appropriately placed under the shade of a cashew tree. The women sat on grass mats on the ground next to us. We met her father, sisters, aunts, and uncles. One of her sisters so resembled Zelda that I could not even look her way without tears forming in my eyes. They served us a lunch of chicken, xima, and rice- giving us the very best of what they had to offer. As we talked, I looked around and took in the tranquility and beauty of this place in the bush bush. I could imagine Zelda as a young girl, running and playing with her sisters. I felt so at peace there with her family. I now realized how growing up here with this family made her who she was. I was beyond thankful that God gave her to us for a time so that she could pass on these qualities to her Sunshine children and Beacons of Light children. Zelda is physically gone from us, but she lives on in us as well.
Everyone here knows that I always called Zelda, “my angel”. She truly was my angel and an angel for so many others as well. We miss her terribly. We still cry tears for her. We still refer to the house as “Zelda’s House”. We still feel led to call and ask her questions. We still wish so very much that she was here with us. But as I told the children on the day we celebrated her birthday in January, the best way we can honor her memory and impact is to live lives that would make her proud of us. So this is what we have all committed to do. We will move forward and carry her with us in our hearts knowing that our separation from her is only for a time. I have no doubt that she will be waiting for us to welcome us to heaven with the same warmth and love with which she accepted children into her home.
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