March 29, 2024
BANGOR DAILY NEWS (BANGOR, MAINE

Sherry Krapf’s life hit a low spot a few years ago when the teen and some friends broke into several camps in the Lee area.

For a long time the young woman had known that life in a small northern Penobscot County town wasn’t for her, and the prospect of possibly having to perform community service wasn’t an option she cared to consider.

While waiting to have her day in court in the fall of 1993, Krapf became anxious thinking of what was ahead. “I could not face staying in this town to do community service work or any sort of probation I may have gotten,” she says during a short visit to her hometown recently.

She explains that she and a cousin had often thought of missionary work with Mother Teresa in Calcutta, India, and after eight months with no court activity in her criminal case, Krapf and her lawyer sought permission from the prosecutor in her case, Michael Povich, for her to leave the country to fulfill her wish of working with the poor.

Povich, Hancock County’s district attorney says, “It was made clear upon her return, Ms. Krapf would have to face up to the charges of burglary and criminal mischief.”

“It wasn’t an escape from Lee or the law, but an opportunity for me to turn my life around.” Even today, after Krapf’s second trip to India, there are some who remain skeptical about this “daredevil” lady’s intentions with her life, but Krapf’s only response is “Perhaps those who doubt should take a look at their own futures.”

“There are no words to explain what’s happened inside of me and what I feel,” the 22-year-old says of the experience.

The bright blue-eyed blonde still wishes she could be back working with Mother Teresa in Calcutta, a place she refers to as home. But finances have dictated otherwise and she’s now settling into a job as a deli manager on Long Island, N.Y. “It’s going to be a lifestyle adjustment, but I was sitting in the airport for four hours in New Jersey recently and felt so out of place; like I didn’t belong,” says Krapf. “I have to earn some money to carry on with this type of working, helping the destitute. Maybe I’ll go to Colombia next.”

Two years ago, Krapf’s life took a new focus from the education, inspiration and love she received from her work in India. On Dec. 2, 1993, she and her cousin, Michael, embarked on a 23-hour plane trip from New York. “When I got there, it wasn’t too bad until we moved into the streets of Calcutta. I saw a lot that bothered me. I’m an animal lover and it killed me to see dogs and cats with no fur and ribs sticking out.”

The lifestyle of the people sticks out in Krapf’s mind. “First of all, the place is so dirty you can shower five times and still rub the dirt off your arms.” Calling it disgusting, Krapf says the 115 degree temperature with 100 percent humidity was tolerable compared to the living conditions. It became commonplace to see the Indian people defecating and bathing in the streets of Calcutta, using the water pumps located every 10 feet.

Krapf soon settled into a new home where she slept on the floor. Later she upgraded her living arrangements. For $1.25 a night she got her own bedroom with a shared bath and kitchen. She quickly settled into the life of a missionary: helping, guiding, loving and caring for babies, the mentally ill and handicapped.

It was the beginning of a new life for Krapf — the inspiration, the sorrow and the joy of helping others. Perhaps one of the experiences that Krapf has yet to put words to is meeting Mother Teresa. “She blessed me and my knees got wobbly. It’s just something I can’t explain, but I had to sit down,” says Krapf with a gleaming smile. “Mother Teresa is not as frail as she appears in pictures, but she is very deformed, chubby and has nonstop energy. God has got to give the strength to this woman, because she’s incredible. If you ever see her, she has about 100 people at her feet, showing their respect and she’s constantly waving them to get up.”

Krapf’s work began with those in need, and to hear her tell the story, it sounds as if she’s been working for Mother Teresa’s cause all along. Krapf saw the sickest of the sick, the weakest of the weak and the happiest of any group of people she has ever known.

“The Shi-shu-Bhavan, which means child’s home, is the orphanage where we cared for about 65 children, from just hours old and weighing 3 pounds.” Often parents would bring their sick children in for care and never come back for them.” It wasn’t uncommon for this orphanage to acquire 10 new infants each day.

Krapf goes on to tell about the reality of the poverty-stricken land. “These people had no home, they lived in the streets, gave birth to their babies in the streets. couldn’t feed them nor care for them. There is also a strange custom in that if a baby girl was born to a couple, the bride’s parents would have to pay the groom’s parents 3,000 rupees, that’s about 100 bucks, that these people could not afford,” says Krapf. Needless to say it was not surprising to have the orphanage full of baby girls, sometimes found discarded in the garbage.

Some of the sights Krapf saw beyond the orphanage and streets of Calcutta remain fresh in her memory. “I still close my eyes at night and see this body being burned. I guess that’s their religion to cremate the person after death, but it’s right out in the open,” she says with her arms wrapped around herself, shuttering at the thought.

Krapf began to learn the rules of living in Calcutta from the moment she stepped off the plane. Her cousin, Michael, was helpful in reinforcing them. “Don’t eat meat, fish or open fruit and definitely don’t drink the water,” she says in a dictating tone. Boiling and filtering the water is a way of life and tea and rice were Krapf’s main diet.

At 10:30 every morning the hunger pangs would begin to set in as the traditional washing of the courtyard took place, preparing for a feast which handled about 2,000 people a week. “It is so amazing how those associated with Mother Teresa help so many; feed and clothe so many people. Almost everyone in Calcutta needs this type of help.”

Krapf had an invigorating but rigorous schedule working for Mother Teresa. Her day began with waking up at 5:15 a.m., going to Mass at 6 a.m., having breakfast and on to work in the orphanage or with the mentally ill. At noon she’d grab a quick lunch, do her laundry or any shopping, return to work and then to the Mother House for adoration in the evening, with supper around 8 p.m. In Krapf’s words, “By 9 p.m. I was dead.”

It was a year ago when Krapf headed back to India, only after agreeing to plead guilty to the charges against her from the camp break-ins and to pay restitution to the victims. Krapf did not receive a sentence of community service, like her partners in crime. Rather, she got her wish to go back to India. The second mission brought on a new set of challenges where she worked with the elderly, handicapped and dying.

In a very matter-of-fact tone, Krapf says, “I did a great deal of medical work without any high-tech equipment or tools. You name it, I did it, from washing clothes to cutting off toes.” She said it was unbelievable the injuries that people suffered, like holes in their heads from a fight to limbs missing from falling off trains.

Krapf has never considered herself a churchgoer, but rubbing her knees and showing off her calluses, she talks about the hours of praying she did while in India. “I went to Mass with all kinds, even atheists. … It’s just an environment that affects you, and you have to admire the nuns who have made this their life.” When asked if being a nun was in her future, Krapf’s eyes bugged out and she shook her head, saying, “that’s quite a sacrifice, I like my freedom.”

Freedom is something that Krapf found temporarily. District Attorney Povich says seeing a female take a turn away from crime like this is unique. “Ms. Krapf wrote me a letter explaining her desire to turn things around.” Povich says, “Usually teen criminals have a `wake-up call,’ but this is the first time I’ve seen one who came up with a program like this. If her repentance is sincere, if her work with Mother Teresa is real and true, which I feel it is, then I will lead the charge to have her get a pardon as much as I led the charge to try to get her convicted.”

A troubled teen was a common label for Krapf. “I knew where she was going, getting roped into the wrong crowd,” says Frank Nicastro. Nicastro is Grand Knight of the Knights of Columbus in Lincoln. When word got around about Krapf’s journey to work with Mother Teresa, Nicastro’s ears perked up. Ultimately he offered financial support, making her second trip to India possible. “It moved me to see that this kid turned her life around; I was really touched, it’s truly something very special.”

Krapf’s parents know she is special too, taking on the challenges of India and working for such a cause, affecting so many lives.

“My parents are very supportive of my mission and my goals. I can tell you they weren’t too happy though when I got into trouble,” she says with a half grin. Tom and Monica Krapf won’t dispute that. “I was very, very angry,” says Monica, without taking a breath, admitting Krapf has never had any fear and was always “high strung.” Her father, however, refers to her as, “wild, like I was.”

Tom says, “This is all a growing-up process for her; she got caught and now she won’t do it again.” Both parents describe Krapf’s venture to India as something that “takes guts.” Monica says, “being a Christian and having faith is something you know you got … when you got it! Krapf perhaps never showed her faith, but this experience has been a very inspirational thing for her.”

“It took something to bring her faith alive, meeting Mother Teresa sure was a big step,” her father adds.

Of her experience, Krapf says, “I recognize the opportunities I have been given, seeing a remarkable woman like Mother Tersea and working for her cause. … I’ve seen the happy people and I want to be with them again.”

For those in trouble, Krapf has this advice: “Everybody who is in trouble with the law should be sentenced to work with rather than go to jail. Their life will never be the same again.”

Anne Gabbianelli O’Reilly is a freelance writer who lives in Hampden.


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