10/15/2026
As a young man, I dropped a few rupees and a scribbled note into a collection box in Calcutta. Two months later, Mother Teresa wrote back to thank me.
I had gone looking for her mission almost on a whim, travelling through India chasing my Everest dream, wanting to see her work with my own eyes.
Nothing prepared me for the streets of Calcutta. I saw people dying in the gutters. Blind, ragged, holding out their arms for a few coins. I felt overwhelmed and useless and ashamed, all at once.
Then we found her mission. In the middle of all that suffering, it was a small haven of cleanliness, calm and care. We went back every day. On the last day I left the few notes we had and a folded message, just to tell her how much her work had moved me. I expected nothing back.
I never even met her. And still, weeks later, that letter arrived.
The most revered woman on earth had taken the time to write back to a scruffy young traveller who had given almost nothing. That undid me, and it taught me something I have never let go of.
You can tell everything about a person by how they treat someone who can do nothing for them.
Who could you thank, notice, or make time for today, knowing they can offer you nothing in return?
