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Mother Teresa and the joy of giving

Navin Chawla

The Nobel laureate's biographer in his annual tribute on her birth
anniversary notes that there was no difference between her precepts
and her practice.


— Photo: AFP

Mother Teresa with the Nobel Peace Prize … accepting the award "in the
name of the poor."

Mother Teresa, with whom I had 23 years of association, was a
multi-dimensional figure, both simple and complex at the same time.
Her attention to whomsoever
was with her at any point in time — whether poor or rich, disabled,
leprosy afflicted or destitute — was complete. Yet she also
simultaneously ran a huge
multinational organisation that had taken roots in 123 countries by
the time she died in 1997. This included leprosy stations in Asia and
Africa; hospice
s for AIDS patients in North America, orphanages, homes for the
elderly destitute, feeding stations and soup kitchens everywhere;
Shishu Bhavans for orphans
and abandoned children in most cities, drug de-addiction centres and
home-visiting to comfort the sick, elderly and abandoned in the West;
all these were
achieved with a fair amount of precision and regularity by the Sisters
and Brothers of her Order. Absent from this structure was the army of
administrators
and officials that we associate with global enterprises.

When Mother Teresa was alive, I had expressed concern to her whether
the organisation she had built from scratch had not overly grown and
which would be
difficult to sustain after she passed on. I had seen several other
organisations begin to wither away soon after their charismatic
founders became either
physically debilitated or died. Why would this Order be any different,
I asked. The first time I posed this question to her, she merely
smiled and pointed
her fingers heavenwards. The second time I asked, she set my question
aside with a smile saying "let me go first." On my persistence some
weeks later,
she finally answered, "You have been to so many of our 'homes'
(branches) in India and abroad. Everywhere the Sisters wear the same
saris, eat the same
kind of food, do the same work, but Mother Teresa is not everywhere,
yet the work goes on." Then she added, "As long as we remain committed
to the poorest
of the poor and don't end up serving the rich, the work will prosper."

Present statistics reveal 758 'homes' all over the world, of which 244
are in India and 514 are overseas. They have a presence in 134
countries. The total
strength of their nuns is 4,912. The number of men (Brothers of the
Order) is 367 who work in India and 20 other countries besides. Quite
clearly, the
presence of the Order globally has not diminished. The apprehensions I
voiced to Mother Teresa in her lifetime continue to be laid to rest.

There were so many things that Mother Teresa would say or explain to
me in her simple unaffected way during my association with her, that
have become more
meaningful to me as time goes by. My relationship with her grew into
trust and confidence in the way that a guru-shishya relationship
develops, often deepening
with increased understanding. In the beginning when Mother Teresa
spoke to me, or spoke in public, it seemed to me that she spoke
everyday truths, and
they seemed much too simple. My mind accepted them largely because of
the respect in which I held her — a respect intensified because there
was no difference
between her words and her deeds, between her precepts and her practice
and the fact that she could understand the poor because she was poor
herself. But
over the years, the deeper meaning of her words in their spiritual
sense gradually began to be applied by me in my day-to-day life, and
began to affect
my inner being.

Soon after 1992, when my biography on Mother Teresa was published, I
visualised using the book royalty that I was beginning to receive for
social causes.
I felt instinctively that a book that was selling in her name should
not enable me to keep all the income to myself. I posed my dilemma
directly to her.
She suggested that I must at the very least keep aside some amount for
my daughter's education. She herself had encouraged my elder daughter
to study overseas,
and indeed herself provided a reference to a university in the U.K.
The rest I could devote to charity if I wished to. That crystallised
in my mind into
establishing an NGO that could work with the marginalised, the
disabled and especially the leprosy-affected, who had a special place
in Mother Teresa's
scheme of things. One day, even as such an institution was but a
thought in my mind, I had asked her with what numbers I should begin.
She said simply,
"Don't get lost in numbers. Begin humbly. Begin with one or two. Even
if the ocean is less by one drop, it is still worth being."

Mother Teresa's work — indeed the continuing work of the Sisters and
Brothers of the Missionaries of Charity — became possible because she
saw in each person
she ministered to a manifestation of her God. So, whether it was
taking care of an abandoned infant on a Kolkata street, or a homeless
destitute sleeping
on a cold wintry night in a cardboard box under London's Waterloo
Bridge, or the poor and hungry standing in silent queues in a Vatican
square, awaiting
their only hot meal from Mother Teresa's ashram adjoining the grand
papal audience chamber, all this could become possible only out of her
deepest conviction
that she was ministering to her God. Otherwise, as she often told me,
"You can look after a few loved ones at the most, it is not possible
for you to help
everybody. Our work becomes possible because to me and my Sisters,
they are all God." And so the work that I witnessed over long years;
dressing the ulcerated
hands of leprosy patients in Titagarh, or the comforting of those
dying at Kalighat, or simply reaching out to one's neighbour, became
not merely possible,
it was often joyful. It also helps to explain the ease with which the
Sisters of her Order smile.

For the Mother and her Sisters, comforting one individual was more
important than "getting lost in numbers." Meanwhile, the
leprosy-affected in India had
a very special place in her heart. I have often visited Titagarh
outside Kolkata where the Sisters run an institution which is a small
township of the
leprosy-affected. For years they have been provided medication so that
there is no active disease left. But having faced the stigma for so
long, they live
apart from 'normal' people. The Sisters keep them busy. All the saris
that the Missionaries of Charity Sisters wear are woven on their
looms.

In my second meeting with Mother Teresa in 1975, the subject on her
mind that morning was leprosy. She had come to request the Lt.
Governor of Delhi, whose
secretary I was at that time, for some land in the heart of the
leprosy colonies of Delhi so that she could build a hospital and
dormitories and, more
importantly, engage them in activities so that they did not have to
beg for a living. My association with that colony — and with their
healthy children
— has remained during these 32 years, more than half my life. Some of
those children, many now parents themselves, whom I had assisted to
get employment
in different areas of government or in private jobs, have amply
demonstrated what a single nun's vision can do to transform their
lives by simply bringing
them health, opportunity and dignity.

"I am unworthy" was her reaction when she was named the recipient of
the ultimate accolade, the Nobel Prize for Peace in 1979. She sent
word to the organisers
that she should accept the award "in the name of the poor." Many
people had earlier been disappointed by some of the awardees, for not
all were doves of
peace. There were many who believed that it was Mother Teresa who had,
with her acceptance, enhanced the stature of the award.

At the ceremony in Oslo, the then Chairman of the Nobel Committee,
John Sannes, summed up her work with these words: "The hallmark of her
work has been
respect for the individual and the individual's worth and dignity. The
loneliest and the most wretched, the dying destitute, the abandoned
lepers, have
all been received by her and her Sisters with warm compassion devoid
of condescension, based on her reverence for Christ in man ... In her
eyes, the person
who, in the accepted sense, is the recipient, is also the giver and
the one who gives the most, Giving — giving something of oneself — is
what confers
real joy, and the person who is allowed to give is the one who
receives the most precious gift ...This is the life of Mother Teresa
and her Sisters — a
life of strict poverty and long days and nights of toil, a life that
affords little room for other joys but the most precious."

(Navin Chawla, Election Commissioner of India, and a former IAS
Officer, is the author of Mother Teresa: The Authorised Biography.)


-- 


If you inquire about me, my beloved, then hear me: I am very strong to
face calamities and reverses; I cannot tolerate that signs of sorrows
and griefs on my face make my enemies happy, and increase sorrows of
my friends
.

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