Memorial for beloved homeless woman

(NECN: Greg Wayland, Boston, Mass.) - (Greg Wayland, NECN: Boston) - In brilliant cold sunlight they said goodbye to a woman who for over twenty-six years happily wandered Boston’s streets. She would sit among the crowds at Boston’s south station, then after the last train, happily set out for Downtown Crossing in the dead of night in every season. Greene: Somebody who just kept on her daily circuit, her daily route, no matter what the weather, who else was around her . She just did her thing. Stella May Brown Weaco was among Boston’s homeless -- but unique in the mysterious joy she took in dwelling in the heart of the city at all hours. Watching, listening, and for many years, sleeping in doorways. “Stella lived her life in public places but with very personal, deeply personal dignity in those places.” Stella died of cancer New Year's Eve at Mass General Hospital. And after laying her to rest Friday at Mattapan’s mount hope cemetery, her friends, fellow homeless women and the staff of the church basement refuge they called, the Women's Lunch Place held a tribute luncheon in Stella’s honor. Fried chicken, biscuits, gravy and collard greens. Southern cuisine for the woman born 67 years ago in Coffeeville, Mississippi. “Do we have any idea why she would have given up her birthplace in Mississippi and come here to cold Boston to live. --- We don't know.” Sharon: There are a lot of details about her life that are unknown to us. In fact, I didn't realize she was from Mississippi until she was in the hospital and I'm a native Mississippian and grew up about an hour from where Stella was born. Sharon: She literally came here every day from the first day that she came and she has this chair here that she sat in. And so you could come in every day and know that you were going to see Stella in that chair ....With her sun shining face. Even governor Deval Patrick once greeted her in her seat of honor at the women's lunch place REGINA AND KATE: Stella was an extremely sweet, gentle soul. Kind to all, forgiving, crusty at the same time. But, you've to say her nickname for her, cause -- Over the years I've known Stella for about eight years -- I call her Sunshine, cause she lights up the room, whenever she would arrive here... I walks in there and she says what's your name and I says cornbread and she got so tickled and she laughed all day. But her routine always took her back to the streets, to the crowds at south station, to the life of the city. But ultimately, she would always find her way back here to the corner of Berkeley and Newbury Street, to the church of the covenant, to that set of stairs, leading down to the basement where she always found plenty of friends. Greene: What's amazing to me is that for more than twenty years before she finally accepted shelter and housing at night, she would always come to the women's lunch place. The sense of welcome and warmth here, of women helping women. “So part of my mission is to really reconnect Stella with her family.” Because no one knows if there might be a son, daughter or sister somewhere wondering about the Stella, searching for her. Meanwhile, her seat is empty now -- still a place of honor and memory. For the woman they called sunshine. You are my sunshine. My only sunshine. You make me happy when skies are gray. You'll never know, dear, how much they miss you.