Mother Teresa

Hello, my name is Anjezë Gonxhe Bojaxhiu, but the world came to know me as Mother Teresa. I was born on August 26, 1910, in a city called Skopje. My childhood was filled with the love of my family. My mother, Dranafile, had a heart as big as the sky. She would often invite the poor to eat with us, telling me, “My child, never eat a single bite unless you are sharing it with others.” This taught me about charity, which means helping those in need out of love. She would take me with her to visit the sick and lonely, and I saw how a little kindness could bring a big smile to someone’s face. From a young age, I loved hearing stories about missionaries who traveled to faraway lands to help people. I felt a strong pull in my heart, a feeling that God had a special purpose for me. I didn't know what it was yet, but I knew my life was meant to be one of service.

When I turned eighteen, in 1928, I made a very big decision. I knew my path was to become a nun and help people in India. It was so hard to say goodbye to my mother and my home, but I felt a deep peace, knowing I was following my calling. I traveled all the way to Ireland to learn English and then boarded a ship for the long journey to India. For many years, I worked as a teacher at a school for girls in Calcutta. I loved my students and teaching them, but every day, as I looked out beyond the school walls, my heart ached. I saw people living in extreme poverty, with no food, no medicine, and no home. They were sick and alone, and I felt I wasn't doing enough to help them. Then, on September 10, 1946, while I was on a train ride, I received what I called my “call within a call.” It was a clear message from God telling me to leave the school and go live among the poorest of the poor to serve them directly. It was a scary thought, but I knew I had to obey.

Starting my new mission was the hardest thing I had ever done. I left the comfort of my convent with almost nothing. I began by starting an open-air school for children in the slums. I didn't have a blackboard, so I used a stick to write letters in the dirt. Slowly, people began to notice. Some of my former students came to help me, becoming the very first sisters of my new community. In 1950, we officially became the Missionaries of Charity. Our work was simple but important. We found people who were sick and dying on the streets and brought them to a place where they could be cared for with love and dignity. We opened homes for orphans and food centers for the hungry. We didn't have much money or many supplies, but we had our faith and our hands to serve. I always told my sisters that we were not just helping people; we were seeing the face of God in each person we served. Our guiding idea was to do “small things with great love.” A small smile, a kind word, or holding a hand could change someone's entire world.

Our small group of sisters grew and grew. Soon, the Missionaries of Charity were working not just in India, but all around the world, helping the forgotten everywhere. In 1979, I was given a great honor called the Nobel Peace Prize. I was grateful, but I told everyone that the prize belonged to the poor. My true joy never came from awards; it came from the feeling of peace I had when I was with someone who needed love. My life on Earth ended in 1997, but the work of the Missionaries of Charity continues. Looking back, I see that my whole life was a journey of love. You don't have to do big things to make a difference. You, too, can spread kindness and be a light in the world, just by doing small things with great love.