Mother House

The Mother House is a five minute walk from service learning, but I had never been because I wanted to finish my Mother Teresa book first. I finished, and yesterday, I went. A suspenseful lead-in, I know.

There are multiple signs outside the tomb telling you to maintain a strict silence, but at first, the girls and I didn't really feel the need; we weren't following it that strictly. Within a few minutes, by the sheer weight of being there, we were moved to silence, and maintained it for the rest of our stay (and quite awhile afterwards).

The Missionaries of Charity are an incredible group. Despite their decades of existence, incredible publicity, and funding beyond what they could possibly need, they have stayed pure to their work and their mission. They live in simplicity, doing the dirtiest jobs for the lowest of the low, with incredible love. One small act at a time. I think one of the lasting ideas Mother Teresa has given me is, "You cannot do great things in this world. Only small things, with great love."Mother Teresa and her sisters have received worldwide respect and support for members of all nations and religions, simply because you cannot disagree with the work they are doing. They live in absolute poverty, washing feet and taking care of lepers. What could you possibly say against that?

The entire complex, including the outside, is simple and functional. The door to get in is down this alley. Hardly any signage or anything. They don't need any.

This is the tomb. In case you can't read that, it says "Love seeks to serve." Those flowers are traditional in Bengal for adorning Hindu deities, a sign of Mother Teresa's importance to people of all faiths.

As we were sitting there, a sister quietly came in, knelt down, and prayed over the tomb. She was one of the most incredible leaders, by sheer example

We got to see a museum-ish thing, with details of Mother Teresa's life, the work of the Missionaries of Charity, and a bunch of humorous relics from her life. "Scissors used by Mother." "Plate used by Mother." Wowwwww

Next we went up to her room. I wish pictures were allowed there so I could show you what it looks like.

Ok here it is. Thank goodness for the internet.

This is where she slept every night. She would sit at that desk and write letters every day. That bed eventually became the place where she would die. In her last moments, she looked very intently at the crucifix/crown of thorns on the wall. It was supposed to be a very hot room in relation to the other rooms in the house (everything is hot here), but she never used a fan. Not like that was the only personal sacrifice in her life, but it seemed like an interesting anecdote.

A picture of her feet, post-death. They're completely mutilated, because she used them so much. She got her use out of them, and now she doesn't need them. Beautiful. 

As we passed the sisters at the door on our way out, they gave us the biggest smiles. That's when I realized that this stuff really is real. Even the sister I asked a question to when I wasn't supposed to be talking was loving. These women really do everything with extraordinary love. They are an incredible inspiration to me, because they aren't just doing great miraculous things that require a life of servitude and dedication. They are focusing on the ordinary stuff, and doing it with a smile. And that's something we could all do.