Poorest of the Poor

Several times in high school and college, I worked with Mother Teresa’s nuns, the Missionaries of Charity. Five minutes with these women and it’s clear that they are so full of love for Jesus that they’re able to shower that love on everyone they meet.

The sisters are known for serving the Poorest of the Poor. They go into the worst parts of the biggest cities and they care for the dying and the destitute – those with nowhere else to turn and with no one else who cares. And they serve these people with a smile.

During my experiences with these sisters, volunteering in their summer camps and soup kitchens and hospice, I was inspired to love. Just being around these sisters made me want to serve others; it seemed so easy.

Until one morning in the Bronx. At the soup kitchen that morning, my job was to serve small powdered donuts to the homeless men coming off the street for a meal. I was handing out the donuts with a smile when one of the men refused the donut I served.

“I don’t want a broken donut,” he said. “I want a good one.”

He wouldn’t take the donut! I was amazed. Here was a man who might not eat again until he came back the next day – refusing food! I turned to the sister in charge and waited for her to bark. (The sisters are full of love but also don’t take flack.)

The sister smiled, took the broken donut and replaced it with a whole one. And the man unceremoniously moved down the line.

That moment, years ago, taught me so much. A split-second decision by this holy woman to replace a perfectly good donut showed me how to love on God’s terms – and not my own. It was a lesson in treating others with kindness – even when I think I have the right not to.

Many times, when I think about serving others, it seems so easy – when the acts of kindness are appreciated. It’s not that I want accolades (or even a thank you note). But it is nice, when we love others, to know our service helps, that it makes a difference.

This time of the year, as we move towards the celebration of Christmas, I’m reminded of the poorest of the poor. Part of that, of course, is because Jesus came to us that way. And during this season, there are so many opportunities to donate and share. My boys were so excited last week to choose the angels off the tree at church, the chance to provide gifts for those who will otherwise have none.

But the truth is that kind of loving is easy. It’s not hard to go out and buy a gift for someone. We buy what we can afford (as we should), and we share what we have with others. It’s a wonderful service that really only costs us financially.

But when we’re called to be Jesus to the Poorest of the Poor, it doesn’t just mean to those with less stuff than us. We must be Jesus to everyone – strangers, friends and family alike.

I think about all the interactions I’ll have over the next few weeks, and how sometimes there are those relationships that can be strained. There are interactions that will be a stretch, where I’ll have to die to myself a bit, have to be loving and selfless when I don’t necessarily want to be.

But I’m called to love – even when it hurts.

Being Jesus to others means going the extra mile – not necessarily by doing more or providing more, but by loving more. It’s choosing patience with a family member. It’s choosing to assume the best when you can’t figure out why in the world someone would say such a thing. It’s smiling when you want to clench your jaw.

“I have found the paradox,” says Blessed Teresa of Calcutta, “that if I love until it hurts, then there is no hurt, but only more love.”

And it’s remembering that we are all the Poorest of the Poor, from time to time. Isn’t it healing when we are loved unconditionally by those in our path.