100 Years of LOVE

Chanan Kaur was born in Panjaura, Hoshiarpur, at her maternal grandparents’ home, to parents Dhanti Kaur and Krishnan Singh. Her mother was a dedicated homemaker, and her father earned a living installing hand pumps (Nalka) for households and communities. Bibi was the eldest of five siblings, including three sisters and two brothers. Tragically, her younger sister Debo and brother Mohna, born soon after her, both passed away in childhood.

The family resided in Amritsar, Punjab, in a Kachcha house (a home where the walls are made up of clay, bamboo, mud, grass, stones, and unburnt bricks). As the eldest child, she took on significant responsibilities from a young age, helping her mother manage the household and care for her younger siblings. These duties meant she was unable to attend school or receive a formal education.

One of Bibi’s daily tasks was fetching water from the well. On one such day, as she returned home carrying food for their buffalo, a large snake crossed her path, locking eyes with her. Summoning courage, she addressed the snake, saying, "Either I will be your death, or you will be mine." Yet, in that moment, she chose not to harm it, accepting her fate with grace. She stood motionless, and after what felt like an eternity, the snake slithered away.

It was during that profound encounter that she made a vow never to harm any of God's creatures—a promise she kept unwaveringly for the rest of her life. As a family, we can all attest that this commitment remained true until her final days.

In the early 1930s, she traveled to Pakistan, which they referred to as “Bhar,” for a wedding on her paternal side of the family, accompanied by her parents and her brother, Mohna. During this time, the area beyond Amritsar was nothing more than dense jungle.

She fondly recalls visiting the “Dhan-Dhan Gurudwara,” the Gurudwara Baba Gurditta, where the phrase "Dhan-Dhan Baba Gurditta Ji" is often used. This gurdwara is a sacred site for Sikhs, located in Kartarpur, a town on the Ravi River in Punjab. Built in 1925, it is considered one of the holiest places for Sikhs.

In the late 1930s, at the age of 15, Bibi visited the Golden Temple in Amritsar with her cousin. During the visit, she decided to take a dip in the holy pond. As she submerged herself repeatedly, she unknowingly ventured into deeper sections where her feet could no longer touch the bottom and realized she was drowning. Fortunately, a young woman nearby noticed her distress, rushed into the water, grabbed her by the arm, and saved her life.

I often think about that day and how the Lord chose not to call me then. I was destined to see this country, America. I don’t know where or when my time will come—no one truly knows what lies in their destiny.

Jithē Jithē Daana Paani Kise Da Hai Har Heela Chugna

In 1942 - at the age of 17 in a hindu ceremony she wed Chanan Singh Tumber of Rampur. A year later, they welcomed their first child. They had 5 children together, Gurshinder (Shindi), Gurshinder, Sheela, Mohinder and Sukhdev.

After her marriage her parents and family eventually settled back to the paternal home in Haveli, (a small village in Mahilpur Tehsil in Hoshiarpur District of Punjab State).

Much of her married life was spent apart from her husband, who worked full-time as an electrician in Bombay (Mumbai). He would only return home for some time, once a year. She visited him only once, when he injured himself, bringing along their youngest daughter and son. During that trip, she encountered a completely different side of India and often shared stories about her experience. She recalled how different the language was and described their time in Pune, where she noticed the neighbors’ distinct prayer practices. She would say

They all had Tulsi plants—they used them in all their prayers

In the early years of her marriage, she dedicated herself to caring for her bedridden mother-in-law, providing such selfless care that it could be likened to that of a full-time nurse. This commitment was the reason she couldn’t join her husband when he migrated to the United States, keeping them apart once again, this time separated by continents.

Her devotion was unwavering; she simply couldn’t leave her mother-in-law in such a vulnerable state. It was only after her mother-in-law’s passing that she was finally able to move to the United States and reunite with her husband. It was never easy for her to become a caretaker at such a young age.

During her early twenties in Rampur, Bibi devoted herself to managing the household, caring for her in-laws and children, and serving those in need—especially the elderly, the poor, and elders who lived alone without family support. Each day, she would cook extra food and ensure she had additional rotis ready for the elders in the village. Without fail, they would arrive at her home during lunch and dinner times to receive food and water.

Notably, the Tumber household was the only one in the village equipped with a hand pump, and Bibi generously shared this precious resource with anyone in need.

Among the villagers was an elderly blind woman who visited daily for a meal. When the woman became too ill to make the trip herself, Bibi sent food to her home every day, delivered by her youngest son.

There were also frequent visits from textile workers selling garments. One woman in particular would regularly stop to speak with Bibi. Over time, Bibi noticed her absence for several weeks. When the woman finally returned, she looked frail and ill. Concerned, Bibi invited her inside, offering a seat and asking what had happened. The woman shared her story of poverty and despair, revealing that she had attempted to end her own life, believing that one fewer mouth to feed might ease her family’s burden.

Deeply moved, Bibi immediately reassured her, insisting she must never contemplate such a thing again and should come to her in times of need. She prepared a care package filled with food and essentials for the woman to take home. Word of Bibi's compassion and generosity soon spread, and many others from less fortunate circumstances began to visit her for help.

It didn’t matter how little she had—Bibi gave selflessly, often saying she would gladly give the shirt off her back if someone needed it. Anything she could spare, she gave away. Perhaps it was this constant spirit of giving that cultivated her detachment from material possessions.

During that time, much of India was underdeveloped, with dense jungles separating towns. Traveling in the evenings was considered dangerous, and many travelers needed a safe place to rest overnight. Word quickly spread about Bibi and her generosity, and stories of the Tumber household—a place of refuge for all—soon became well-known.

Her home became a trusted stopping point for those journeying through the area. With a spacious courtyard, Bibi would lay out beds for anyone needing a place to stay and ensure they were served hearty meals. Her kindness and hospitality created a sanctuary for travelers in need.

In 1972, Bibi left India with her daughter Shella and traveled to England. Her brother-in-law, Pritam Singh—who had played a significant role in arranging Shella's marriage—traveled from Yuba City to fulfill the fatherly responsibilities at the wedding and to accompany Bibi back to the United States. She spent 10 to 14 days in England, a place that left a lasting impression on her. One of her final wishes in life was to visit England once more.

At the age of 47, Bibi began a new chapter in Yuba City, California, sharing a home with her husband for the next 20 years. She quickly immersed herself in the hard work of the family peach farm. Even after a long day of labor, when her husband would suggest they call it quits, she would insist on filling “just one more bin”—a task equivalent to gathering half a ton of peaches. Despite his exhaustion and frustration, she proved time and again that no one could outwork her. The income Bibi earned working on the peach farm was sent back to India to support her younger brother and help care for his family and their mother.

Bibi never spoke about how challenging life in America was or how physically demanding the work on the farm could be. Instead, she took pride in her resilience, often sharing the story of how she broke her arm in those very fields. One day, while picking peaches, she spotted more fruit higher up on the tree. As she tiptoed on the ladder to reach them, the ladder slipped out from under her. She clung to the tree with one arm, dangling and screaming for help. For years afterward, any pain in her right arm would remind her of that harrowing moment, a testament to her strength and determination.

The home on Fruitridge Road in Yuba City mirrored her home in Rampur, always alive with the presence of friends and family. It was a sanctuary for many, often serving as the first home for those newly arriving in the United States. True to her nature, Bibi never let anyone leave hungry. She consistently prepared extra food, knowing visitors could arrive unannounced—a common occurrence in those days when phone calls weren’t customary, and uninvited guests were warmly welcomed.

Despite the constant influx of people coming and going, she never expressed frustration or complaint. Her home was a hub of love and generosity, a testament to her unwavering hospitality and open-hearted spirit.

The home she took immense pride in was her sanctuary—the queen of her own castle. It was a home built on the foundation of hard work, filled with cherished moments, the echoes of laughter, and the warmth of family and friends. Over time, it became a gathering place where loved ones would visit and continue to create lasting memories. Each family member holds their own stories tied to that special place, a testament to its significance in all of their lives.

In 1992, Bibi and her husband, with heavy hearts, left their beloved home to move to San Jose, California. They spent the next 20 years living with their youngest son, daughter-in-law, and two grandchildren. Initially, they lived on Cooley Drive, where their daughter resided across the street and their eldest son lived just two houses down. The block was filled with family and friends, continuing the tight-knit sense of community Bibi had always cherished.

Despite not having a formal education, she had a remarkable photographic memory. Bibi kept a phone book diary and would often ask one of her children or grandchildren to jot down someone's phone number for her. She was particular about where each number should be written. Thanks to her photographic memory, she could effortlessly recall whose number was recorded and exactly where it was noted.

In 1994, Bibi traveled back to India with her husband upon hearing that her mother was gravely ill. After spending a few days by her side, her mother passed away peacefully.

Despite the move, Bibi maintained her vibrant social life and, by 1995, fully dedicated herself to seva (selfless service) at the San Jose Sikh Gurdwara. The following year, in 1996, she took Amrit—a Sikh baptism that formally initiates one into the Khalsa, the Sikh brotherhood/sisterhood, as established by Guru Gobind Singh Ji in 1699.

From that point on, Bibi committed herself deeply to her faith, seva, and spiritual growth. She became a prominent and well-recognized member of the San Jose Sikh Gurdwara community, embodying her lifelong values of service and devotion.

In the final 10 years of her husband's life, as he struggled with Alzheimer's, Bibi devoted herself to his daily care. Much like the care she had provided for his mother, she now tended to him with unwavering love. On June 10, 2008, he took his last breath in the arms of his grandson, with Bibi by his side.

In 2009, Bibi traveled to Italy with her granddaughter to visit her sister and her family. From Italy, they continued the journey to India, where she was reunited with her youngest sister. The three sisters spent several weeks together cherishing the time they had with one another. While in India, Bibi revisited her home in Rampur and her paternal home in Haveli. She also took the time to reconnect with old friends and family, creating new memories alongside loved ones.

Later that year, Bibi traveled to Las Vegas for the first time with her eldest son Gus, his wife, and Gus’ mother-in-law. On the second day, both Bibi and Babbo asked Gus to take them to a Sikh Gurdwara. Gus was surprised to discover that there was, in fact, a Gurdwara in Las Vegas. They took a bus and then walked the rest of the way, and once they arrived, the experience was truly exceptional.

Around 2009-2010, Bibi began splitting her time between Arizona and San Jose. Spending six months of the year in Arizona. Her heart was always in San Jose and she wasn’t particularly fond of being in Arizona. Her decision to move full-time was motivated by her great-granddaughters, Malina and Zayna. They became her purpose, her lifeline, and her world.

From that point on, her visits to San Jose were brief, as she would often say, I need to get back to the girls, they miss their Bibi. Her stories revolved entirely around Malina and Zayna, who gave her the chance to relive her own childhood. Whether it was swinging on the park swings or, believe it or not, going on rides with them at Peter Piper, the joy of being with the girls filled her life with happiness and a sense of renewed purpose.

Bibi’s bond with Mavin, her second youngest great grandson, was filled with playful mischief. They would tease each other, with her picking on him just as much as he did with her. He affectionately called her "Baby." When her youngest great-grandson, Ekaam, was born, her joy knew no bounds. The moment she had the chance to travel to San Jose to see him, she jumped at it, even if it meant getting on a plane—something she wasn’t particularly fond of. Seeing her with Ekaam, watching her embrace a childlike joy, created some of the most beautiful moments.

There’s a 100-year age gap between Bibi and her youngest great-granddaughter Meher who recently started speaking her first words, one of them being, “Bibi.”

Bibi had an extraordinary memory, capable of recalling vivid details with remarkable clarity. Her ability to bring specific events from her past to life made her the ultimate storyteller. Bibi lived her life with a strong dedication to her family—first to her parents and maternal side, then in her marriage, to her new family. In later years, she devoted herself to serving her faith. Whenever a family member needed help, she would gather a few belongings and move in for a few days or weeks to offer her full support. If you needed her, she would be there, always ready to lend a hand. Bibi never asked for anything in return. This selfless spirit is what allowed her to touch and impact so many lives. Her strength was unmatched; she could accomplish the work of ten women.

She made a point of checking in on everyone, no matter their age, asking how they were doing—and not just about them, but about their entire family. You could often find her on the phone, catching up with family and friends. She truly understood the importance of relationships, cherishing the people in her life above all else. Bibi was a philanthropist at heart—charitable, generous, loving, and the hardest working woman you could ever know. She had no attachment to material possessions.

She had a deep affection for her birds and had recently adopted a cat. Every day, she prepared food for them, and on scorching hot days, she made sure to add ice to their water. Even when she traveled, she would call home to ensure someone was taking care of her birds.

In her final days in the hospital, Bibi was dreaming and motioning with her hands in a way that showed she was trying to feed her birds. The nurse, after understanding her gesture, kindly played bird sounds, making Bibi smile. Even in those last moments, she was still asking about how everyone was doing. That was the essence of who she was—selfless, loving, and always thinking of others. 100 years of LOVE.