
In June 2026, Sister Lucy Kurien, founder of the Maher Ashram in India, travelled to Tavira, Portugal, to attend a Gender Reconciliation retreat titled ‘The Body of Joy’. The four-day retreat, organised by Will Keepin and Cynthia Brix, attracted attendees from Africa, the USA, Portugal and Canada.
Living close by, I joined the retreat and spent some time with Sister Lucy. She is a warm-hearted, bubbly, inspiring woman with kind eyes. Her hugs are firm, feel genuine, and are restorative. As we talked, she reflected on more than three decades of resilient service and on the continuing challenge of supporting women and children affected by violence, abuse and abandonment.
“My history is that I’m a Catholic nun,” she explained, “and I decided to work for homeless people and women who experience violence and those who suffer.”
Born in 1955 in Kerala, she moved to Mumbai as a teenager and later joined the Sisters of the Cross religious order. In the 1980s, she worked with the HOPE Foundation, helping vulnerable and abused women.
A notable aspect of Sister Lucy’s work is that Maher is intentionally interfaith and secular. People are accepted regardless of religion, caste, ethnicity, or social background. She has often said that the person comes first, not their religion or caste.
Her work has received national and international recognition, including the Nari Shakti Puraskar (India’s highest civilian honour for women’s empowerment) and the Jamnalal Bajaj Award.
Some people compare the impact of Sister Lucy’s work to that of Mother Teresa because of her long-term dedication to people who have nowhere else to go. Sister Lucy’s approach focuses heavily on rehabilitation, family reintegration, community development, and shelter.
The night that changed everything
Her life’s work grew out of a tragedy that she witnessed while working with abused women in Maharashtra. In 1991, a heavily pregnant woman came to Sister Lucy seeking protection from her violent and abusive husband. Lucy wanted to help, but: “We did not have any shelter homes for women,” she recalls. “I tried to help her, but it was not possible, and I sent her back.”
That night, the woman’s husband set her on fire. Seven months pregnant, she suffered catastrophic burns. Hearing screams from the nearby slum, Lucy ran to the scene.
“When I reached there, I realised this was the same woman who had come to me for shelter.”
“She was sitting on a stone, and she was yelling, ‘Save me, save me.’”
The woman was rushed to the hospital, but doctors said there was little hope.
“What I got in my hand was a fully burned baby.”
The shock was profound.
“One night could make a difference in the life of a woman, that I didn’t realise.”
Returning to the convent, she recalled: “I was not the same. I was completely changed. I was almost blaming myself for the death of the two people that night.”
Lucy decided that no woman should ever again be turned away because there was nowhere safe for her to go.
When she proposed creating a refuge for vulnerable women, many warned her of the difficulties ahead.
“The sisters told me, ‘Lucy, you don’t know what you are asking for. This requires a lot of money and a lot of trouble.’”
Her answer was simple:“Trouble, I’m ready to take.”
Eventually, she received permission to leave the convent and pursue the work independently. She had no funding and no guarantees of success.
“They didn’t give me any money,” she remembers. “Only permission.”
Yet support arrived from unexpected places. Poor families shared what little they had. Later, an Austrian family of musicians offered help, raising money through concerts.
“They gave me about a thousand euros. That was enough for me to buy a small piece of land.”
Mother’s Home
On that land, in 1997, she built a tiny house. It became the first Maher home. “Maher” means “Mother’s Home”
The first home reportedly began with only a handful of residents, but the need quickly grew as many women arrived with children. Over time, Maher broadened its mission to include:
Abused and abandoned women
Orphaned and vulnerable children
Elderly and destitute people
People with mental illness who had been abandoned by their families
Nearly three decades later, that small beginning has grown into a vast humanitarian movement. Maher now operates dozens of residential homes for women, children and men across India, providing shelter, education, healthcare, vocational training and community development programmes.
“From 1997 to now, we have 73 shelter homes,” she says. “Nearly 3,000 people are staying in these homes.”
Ten of the homes support men, the rest offer shelter and food to women and children.
But Maher’s mission extends beyond shelter. Lucy’s goal has always been to help people remain within their communities whenever possible.
“My focus is on how to make them stay at home, not to bring them to Maher.”
Today, Maher supports thousands more through microfinance groups, kindergartens, nutrition programmes, educational support and food assistance for widows, people with tuberculosis, people living with HIV/AIDS, and other vulnerable families.
The long-term impact is visible in the lives of the children who have grown up through Maher’s care.
“Many of my children are educated now. Four of them are in America, four are in Germany.”
Many former residents return to support the next generation.
“The children themselves opened a bank account,” she says proudly. “Whatever they can save, they put there for the children’s education.”
Looking back, Maher’s work can be traced to a single moment of loss. Yet from that pain-filled tragedy emerged a movement that has restored dignity, safety and opportunity to thousands of people.
As Sister Lucy puts it, “One night could make a difference in the life of a woman.” Her life’s work has been devoted to making sure that difference is one of hope.
Just €4.50 = 500 Rs will support a woman/man/child for a week.
For more information or to donate, email [email protected] or visit maherashram.org
By Sue Hall / Photos: Supplied
View original source — Portugal Resident ↗

