Don't Wait for Leaders

It was Mother Teresa who said, "Do not wait for leaders; do it alone, person to person."

It was this type of awareness that drove her in 1950 to start the Missionaries of Charity in Calcutta, India. For the next forty-five years she ministered to the poor, sick, orphaned, and dying, while guiding the Missionaries of Charity's expansion, first throughout India and then in other countries.

We can often look at people like Mother Teresa and think to ourselves, "Wow, what an incredible person. I would love to do something like that." We can picture her in her iconic nun's habit, as the great humanitarian that she will always be remembered to be.

But how often do we think about who this famed person was when she was only 20 years old, in India, placed there at a convent and anxious to do something with the call that she had in her heart? How often do we picture this young Albanian girl, new to the language and culture, unfamiliar with the way or means to do things, but driven to make an impact?

Chances are, she probably looked like everyone else, well, minus the fact that she looked like a nun. But she certainly realized one thing, that there was a need that she saw that was going unmet and there were no leaders to solve the problem.

That's where we often stop at times, isn't it? We may recognize the problem but we don't see anyone who will take the lead. I think that's when Mother Teresa would pipe in and say, "Do not wait for leaders; do it alone, person to person."

It's about the grassroots: putting the word out there and asking the people you know around you to help, or find/recommend others who might help. It really doesn't matter if it's a humanitarian effort, a new business, or a new job. In the end, Mother Teresa became an icon for her humanitarian work, but let's not forget that she began on her own, alone, asking one person at a time to help.

Any beginning may be uncomfortable, uncertain, unknown, and unremarkable, but consider - every great river had its start with just one drop of rain.

True Giving

Albert Einstein once said, “The value of a man resides in what he gives and not in what he is capable of receiving.”

I often recall an experience that I had when I was a teenager, when our family began to take short-term medical relief trips to the Philippines. The four of us would head over to the Philippines for about three-weeks at a time conducting small-operation medical relief efforts.

In preparation for the trips, we would spend a month-or-so before gathering pharmaceutical samples donated to us. Sitting in front of the TV we would watch some movie while condensing the samples into larger bottles. Then we would pack two large boxes full of antibiotics and other basic pharmaceuticals and travel with them to the Philippines.

While there we would stay with Churches, or when in the barios (the outlaying villages), we would stay with local families. Generally we would travel into remote barios with a local pastor, or translator and set up a make-shift clinic where my mother would serve as the receptionist/nurse, my father would diagnose and treat, my sister would serve as pharmacist, and I would serve as logistics, praying with people alongside the pastor, playing games with the kids, or just handling anything else that came our way, like tie-ing down the tent when a storm came through.

It was after one such clinic and a particularly long, hot, and sticky day that we had finished with the clinic and were packing up everything, preparing to leave. I had spent a good deal of the day entertaining the children with some music and games. Just as I was about to climb into the jeep, I heared a young child calling out something in his local dialect. I turned around to discover a little boy who came scurrying up to me, juggling an armful of mangos which he barely managed to keep from dropping.

Upon reaching me he fell into my arms in pure exhaustion. The mangos tumbled onto the ground and I caught him and lifted him up. I held him in my arms, looking down to find that his arms and legs were scratched and bleeding. I turned a frantic look to the translator who explained that the boy had picked the mangos for me. I asked what happened to his arms and legs. The translator explained that he must have scratched them up when picking the fruit.

Doing the best I could to compose myself from tearing up, I gave that child a great big hug and called my father over to help clean and bandage his sores.

I have to say that everything we had done up to that point, under the banner of humanitarian aid, seemed to become a trifle as I cleaned that boys cuts.

I often look back to that moment to remind myself that my obligation to give does not stop when it becomes difficult. That is when true giving, true benevolence begins: when it has a cost, when it hurts, when it challenges us, and when it demands of us to endure the cuts and bruises and to run till we are exhausted.

There Are No Lesser People

It was Benjamin Franklin who said, "Despair ruins some, presumption many.”

I recall one of my favorite lessons learned as a Barista at a local coffee shop.

One morning, during an overly busy rush, a lady in my line walked up to my counter, talking on her cell phone. I kindly stated my usual line, "Good morning! What can we make for you today?"

The lady without a moment's hesitation, raised her finger, held it out at me and let out a short, but forceful, "SHH!!" Then put her finger to her open ear in an attempt to listen better to her call.

Yes, you heard it right. She shooshed me. I was shooshed!

Well, after some badgering from a couple of customers behind her, she finally ordered her "half-decaf, double-tall, light-foam, 145 degree soy latte." Now, I had become a pro at taking and remembering the most random of drink orders, but something in me, I'm sure you can imagine, made me less than enthusiastic to recall hers. PLUS, I noticed that there was a cop who had just pulled up near her Lexus which was illegally parked up on the curb-side grass of the church across the way. I'll be very honest, whereas I might normally assist someone by letting them know, I'm sure you can imagine that my motivation was less than excited to do the same for her.

Thankfully, the barista on the bar noticed the same thing and when I called out the drink to him he called back, "Sorry could you repeat the order?"

I called back the order to him. Now I'll confess, I may have purposely called the second order incorrectly. But I also knew that the other barista was in on it and the lady would go crazy, and she did, shouting, "No! It was a half-decaf, DOUBLE-tall, light-foam, 145 degree soy latte." The other barista of course, took his time crafting the beverage.

By this time the police officer was well out of his car with his ticket book. Alas, some kind soul tapped the lady on her shoulder and pointed at the police officer. She dropped everything and ran out the door, yelling at the officer, who calmly said something back while pointing at the grass and the church.

It can be easy at times to make presumptions about people. That lady's presumption was that because of my meager place, I was of no use to her, beyond taking her order, when in fact, I probably could have saved her a ticket by explaining, as I often did to customers, that the police patrol the area often for illegally parked cars.

This week, try to consider those around you. Are you making presumptions about them? Remember, the people you consider the most insignificant, may in fact be the ones to play the most significant of roles in your life. Often without you realizing it.