In 1982, in the spring of my junior year of college, I literally bumped into a person that would change my life.

 

It was commencement day at Harvard. I wasn’t graduating so it was a total coincidence that I happen to be walking through Harvard yard when the featured speaker took to the podium. It was Mother Teresa from Calcutta. She had just won the Nobel Peace Prize but I really didn’t know much about her. But there is something about her voice that caught my attention and ended up listening to her entire speech.

 There was a huge crowd, with tens of thousands of people, but you could’ve heard a pin drop as we all listened to this tiny, five foot tall nun with a very soft voice. She told us all how important it is to help others.  She said, “You have never really lived until you have done something for someone who can never repay you.”  She urged all of the graduates to go out and make their mark on the world. You don’t have to be like me she kept saying.  Find your own way to make a difference and to help people.

“Go find your own Calcutta!” she ordered us. And the crowd loved it, giving her a standing ovation.   

 When it was over, I watched Mother Theresa leave the stage and start to make her way towards the exit.  I kind of gasped when I realized she was coming my way. I wanted to get a closer look at her so I stayed with the crowd and waited for her. She was very gracious and shook hands with people as she was walking out. Just like everyone else I surged forward hoping to shake her hand also.

By the grace of God when she finally got to where I was, she saw my skinny, outstretched hand and stopped to shake it. I of course was in shock.  I’ll never forget how tiny she was in her immaculate blue and white habit, staring up at me.

Of course, I was stunned as she gently took my hand. Her hands were quite large and calloused. They were like the hands of a farmer or a peasant, rather than the hands of the world’s most famous nun.

Time seemed to stop as Mother Teresa stared up at me with her famous deep brown eyes that are ringed with blue and green making them hazel.   “Can you help?” she asked me softly as she shook my hand slowly.  I was speechless. Overwhelmed. Twenty-two years old, wearing a t-shirt, blue jeans, and sneakers. I was completely unprepared for my first encounter with a Nobel Prize winner.

I had no idea what she was asking of me. And before I could say a word, she was gone. She disappeared into the crowd that was carrying her to the exit. But her question stayed with me, and haunted me.

It took me many years until I understood what she was asking me. Until I could answer her question.

Until I finally found my “Calcutta.”