A few days ago, we got news from a major, major funder that one of our most important projects would no longer be supported, and with almost immediate effect. There was a logic to the decision, but it was a blow from out of nowhere and we spent the day in a stunned state of shock, making phone calls, meeting people who might be able to help, sending emails and trying desperately to make alternate arrangements.

There was no question of stopping the work. Our commitment to the children we serve, to their families and – of course – to our staff is rock bottom, foundational, fundamental. We do not end programs. We do not lay people off. We are in it for the long haul and we have pledged everything to this work.

And then there’s that thing called faith. We really believe that the money will always come.

But some days are harder than others.

That day was one of them. In addition to the stress of the situation, the racing across town to meet the funding agency, the urgent phone calls to the important people one always hates to disturb, the frantic poring through the accounts and trying to come up with possible donors to bail us out, I was also suffering from a viral infection which had me coughing in helpless spasms. My whole body ached and I was exhausted.

A bit after five, I packed up my bag and walked out of the office. Everyone else had already left so I was surprised to find the whole team still in front of the building. It was drizzling out, but they were all bent over or crouching in the driveway, peering intently at the gravel and poking through the grass.

“Megha’s lost a diamond earring,” Seema told me.

“Oh no!” I said. I put my bag under a tree and joined in the search. I love looking for things. I am always convinced I will be the one to find them and I swung right into every Catholic’s favourite prayer for such occasions: “Good St Anthony, come around. Something’s lost and can’t be found.” I said it over and over under my breath and I just knew I was going to be the hero, the one who found the earring.

I guess everyone felt the same way. There was an absorbed, companionable silence as we crept slowly across the area where it could possibly have fallen, measuring our steps in quarter-inches, using slender twigs to separate blades of grass, carefully lifting leaves and scraping gently in the mud underfoot.

But now Megha was getting embarrassed. It was still raining and we were no closer to finding it than when we had started.

“It’s ok, everyone.” she insisted. “You all go. I don’t think we’re going to find it.”

No one paid any attention.

“Jo, you go,” she said. I knew she was most embarrassed by my staying and I did actually think of going so she would relax. But I couldn’t leave. I just knew I was going to be the one to find it.

So what a surprise when suddenly, in a quiet voice of triumph, Asish said: “I FOUND IT!”

Asish is our Accounts Officer. He works hard and he doesn’t say much. He also has a little boy with Cerebral Palsy.

As we all erupted into shouts of laughter and delight, he mentioned that he had been just about to give up and leave because he had to take his son for his physiotherapy session. “But then I thought, let me just have one more look. I had looked in that same spot ten times already. But this time I found it.”

It was so clearly a sign even the most unbelieving would have to admit it. Our kids are like diamonds. One of our most dedicated, hardest working staff thought she had lost one. The whole team pulled together to find it. Asish (our ACCOUNTS officer!) has a diamond of his own. He’s the one who spotted it, lying there in the mud, just as he was about to go and take his kid for therapy.

I went home feeling relaxed because suddenly I knew everything was going to work out for the best.

Today I met our funder at their main office in Delhi. One of our dearest friends and champions had had a quiet word, reminding him of the kind of work our team does and the skill and dedication every single staff member brings to the task.

“Tell me, Madame.” the Director said when I walked in. “What is it you are so worried about?”

I pulled up the photos you’re looking at here and as I scrolled through them, I explained (in my croaking, scratchy voice) why it was essential that we continue doing what we are doing. I told him that this centre was like a Jewel in India’s Crown and with so much going wrong for kids with disability in our country, why would anyone even consider shutting us down?

“I have to agree,” he said, calling the relevant officers in right that moment and restoring the entire program with a single stroke of his pen.

“Done!” he said, with a smile, looking like he’d just found a diamond earring himself.

Because really, what more can we ask, than that every parent have the chance to smile the way this Mom is smiling? That’s why we are here. That’s what it’s all about.