CONTENTS

Cover

About the Author

Praise for Mother Teresa & Brian Kolodiejchuk

Title Page

Dedication

Epigraph

Preface

Introduction

ONE: “Put Your Hand in His Hand, and Walk Alone with Him”

TWO: Something Very Beautiful for Jesus

THREE: “Come, Be My Light”

FOUR: “To Bring Joy to the Suffering Heart of Jesus”

FIVE: “Delay No Longer. Keep Me Not Back”

SIX: To the “Dark Holes”

SEVEN: “The Dark Night of the Birth of the Society”

EIGHT: The Thirst of Jesus Crucified

NINE: “My God, How Painful Is This Unknown Pain”

TEN: “I Have Come to Love the Darkness”

ELEVEN: “At His Disposal”

TWELVE: “God Uses Nothingness to Show His Greatness”

THIRTEEN: Radiating Christ

Conclusion

Appendix A: Rules …

Appendix B: Retreat Notes of Mother Teresa, March 29–April 12, 1959

Endnotes

Acknowledgments

Index

Copyright

About the Author

Born in Skopje in 1910, Mother Teresa joined the Sisters of Loreto in Dublin in 1928 and was sent to India, where she began her novitiate. She taught at St. Mary’s High School in Calcutta from 1931 to 1948, until leaving the Loreto order to begin the Missionaries of Charity. Through her sisters, brothers and priests, her service to the poorest of the poor spread all around the world. She won many awards, including the 1979 Nobel Peace Prize. After her death in 1997, the process for her sainthood was quickly begun and she was beatified in 2003.

Fr. Brian Kolodiejchuk, M.C., Ph.D., was born in Winnipeg, Canada. He met Mother Teresa in 1977 and was associated with her until her death in 1997. He joined the Missionaries of Charity Fathers at the time of their foundation in 1984. Fr. Brian is postulator of the Cause of Beatification and Canonization of Mother Teresa of Calcutta and director of the Mother Teresa Center.

Praise for Mother Teresa & Brian Kolodiejchuk

‘Mother Teresa’s Come Be My Light will come to rank with St Augustine’s Confessions and Thomas Merton’s The Seven Storey Mountain as an autobiography proving that great religious figures must first climb through grave doubts.’

Daily Mail

‘Come Be My Light is that rare thing, a posthumous autobiography that could cause a wholesale reconsideration of a major public figure – one way or another. It raises questions about God and faith, the engine behind great achievement, and the persistence of love, divine and human.’

TIME

‘Nothing makes Mother Teresa’s potential sainthood a more intriguing prospect than the collection of her private papers published on the recent anniversary of her death…These writings reveal a soul that lived through most of adulthood not only in the shadows, but in profound, spiritual darkness and pain.’

The Post-Tribune

For those, especially the poorest of the poor, who find themselves in any form of darkness, that they may find in Mother Teresa’s experience and faith, consolation, and encouragement.

First page of Mother Teresa’s letter to Archbishop Périer, found here.

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Last page of Mother Teresa’s letter to Jesus, found here.

If I ever become a Saint—I will surely be one of “darkness.” I will continually be absent from Heaven—to light the light of those in darkness on earth—

—Mother Teresa of Calcutta

PREFACE

For decades, Mother Teresa and her work received extensive public interest. In view of all the attention she garnered during her lifetime, and particularly at the time of her death at the age of eighty-seven, the question arises: What was the source of this attractive force drawing so many people to her? She would have certainly preferred to remain unnoticed. She considered herself just “a pencil in God’s hand”¹ and was convinced that God was using her “nothingness” to show His greatness. She never took credit for her accomplishments and always tried to divert the attention she received to God and “His work” among the poorest of the poor. Yet it was not in God’s providential plan for her to remain unknown. People of all creeds and walks of life recognized her selfless love and compassion for the poor; they admired her simplicity and genuineness and were attracted by the joy and peace that radiated from her. At the same time, all those who met her, even just once, were left with the sense that there was something more behind her penetrating gaze.

Mother Teresa could not hide her work among the poor, but what she did manage to keep hidden—and with astonishing success—were the most profound aspects of her relationship with God. She was determined to keep these secrets of love far from mortal eyes. The late archbishop Ferdinand Périer of Calcutta and a few priests were the only ones who had some insight into the spiritual wealth of her interior life, and even with them she constantly begged that they destroy all her letters regarding it. The reason for such insistence can be found in her deep reverence for God and His work in her and through her. Her silence now stands as a testimony to her humility and the delicacy of her love.

Providentially, Mother Teresa’s spiritual directors preserved some of her correspondence. Thus, when testimonies and documents were gathered during the process for her beatification and canonization, the remarkable story of her intimate relationship with Jesus, hidden from even her closest collaborators, was discovered. In contrast to her “ordinariness,” Mother Teresa’s confidences reveal previously unknown depths of holiness and may very well lead her to be ranked among the great mystics of the Church.

Her life and message continue to fascinate. This book, then, is a response to the plea of many who knew, loved, and admired her and who desire to know the motive of her action, the source of her strength, the reason for her joy, and the intensity of her love. These pages unveil her interior life, with all its depth and drama, and add unsuspected riches to the spiritual heritage Mother Teresa offers to the world.

Father Brian Kolodiejchuk, M.C.

Postulator, Cause of Canonization of Blessed Teresa of Calcutta

Director, Mother Teresa Center

Introduction

“If I ever become a Saint—I will surely be one of ‘darkness.’ I will continually be absent from Heaven—to light the light of those in darkness on earth.”¹ Taken as a kind of “mission statement,” these words of Mother Teresa provide a key to the understanding of her spiritual life, and indeed of her whole life. “Come be My light,” Jesus had requested, and Mother Teresa strove to be that light of God’s love in the lives of those who were experiencing darkness. For her, however, the paradoxical and totally unsuspected cost of her mission was that she herself would live in “terrible darkness.” In a letter to one of her spiritual directors she wrote:

Now Father—since 49 or 50 this terrible sense of loss—this untold darkness—this loneliness—this continual longing for God—which gives me that pain deep down in my heart.—Darkness is such that I really do not see—neither with my mind nor with my reason.—The place of God in my soul is blank.—There is no God in me.—When the pain of longing is so great—I just long & long for God—and then it is that I feel—He does not want me—He is not there.—… God does not want me.—Sometimes—I just hear my own heart cry out—“My God” and nothing else comes.—The torture and pain I can’t explain.—²

Aim of the Book

This book plumbs the depth of Mother Teresa’s interior life seen from the perspective of this “mission statement.” Rather than a theological study, this work is a presentation of the previously unknown aspects of her interior life, through which we gain greater insight into her resolute faith and intense love for God and neighbor.

Three aspects of Mother Teresa’s interior life revealed during her cause of canonization are the private vow made while she was still a Loreto nun, the mystical experiences that surrounded the inspiration to found the Missionaries of Charity, and her intimate sharing in the Cross of Christ through the long years of interior darkness. Each of these elements is connected: the private vow laying the groundwork for the call to serve the poorest of the poor, the new call inviting her to embrace the spiritual reality of those she served, and the vow again supporting her heroic living of the painful darkness.

The book is divided into three parts. Chapters 1 and 2 cover her interior life prior to her “call within a call.” Love for God and neighbor had been planted in her heart since her early childhood. Her generous response already as a youth in Skopje, and particularly as a dedicated and self-sacrificing Loreto nun, reached its peak in a private vow she made in 1942. This vow proved to be not only the driving force behind her actions, but also a providential preparation for what lay ahead.

Chapters 3 through 7 deal with the inspiration she received on September 10, 1946, to found the Missionaries of Charity, the drama of waiting to start her new mission, and, finally, her leaving the Loreto order and beginning the work in the slums. Both in answering the “call within a call” and in the slow process of discernment that followed, she faced bravely the many sufferings that came her way and held firmly to her new mission.

When all seemed to be in place, the worst of her ordeals was only just beginning. From the time she received the call, she was convinced that her mission was to bring the light of faith to those living in darkness. Little did Mother Teresa realize that “darkness” would become the greatest trial of her own life, and a fundamental part of her mission. The depth of this mystical experience and the cost of living out this new call and mission are the themes of Chapters 8 through 13.

Her Legacy

Initially, the experience of darkness took her off guard. Since she had experienced a high degree of union with God, the change was not only surprising but also agonizing: unable to feel His presence as she had earlier, she was bewildered and afraid. Was she going the “wrong way”? Seeking possible reasons for God’s apparent absence, when His presence to her had seemed so real, she at first attributed this absence to her sinfulness and weakness, concluding that the darkness was purification of her imperfections.

With the help of her spiritual directors, she progressively came to grasp that her painful inner experience was an essential part of living out her mission. It was a sharing in the Passion of Christ on the Cross—with a particular emphasis on the thirst of Jesus as the mystery of His longing for the love and salvation of every human person. Eventually she recognized her mysterious suffering as an imprint of Christ’s Passion on her soul. She was living the mystery of Calvary—the Calvary of Jesus and the Calvary of the poor.

Her living of this inner experience was an integral aspect of her vocation, the most challenging demand of her mission, and the supreme expression of her love for God and for His poor. Beyond providing care for the downtrodden and outcasts of human society, she was willing to embrace their material and spiritual suffering, their state of being “unwanted, unloved, uncared for,” of having no one.

Although this intense and ongoing spiritual agony could have made her despondent, she instead radiated remarkable joy and love. She was truly a witness to hope, an apostle of love and joy, because she had built the edifice of her life on pure faith. She glowed with a kind of “luminosity,” as Malcolm Muggeridge described it,³ which flowed from her relationship with God. In this book I hope to explore and illuminate the hidden dynamics of this relationship.

The Documents

Mother Teresa herself was well aware of the uncommon circumstances of her calling and the extraordinary way in which she was challenged to live it out. She always insisted that all documents revealing the inspiration behind the founding of the Missionaries of Charity be destroyed, for fear that she would be given a prominence that she believed was due to God alone.

Father [Van Exem] has also many letters I wrote to him re—the work while still a Loreto Nun.—Now that the plan of Jesus entrusted to us is in the Constitutions—those letters are not necessary. Please may I have them—as these were the very expression of my soul in those days. I would like to burn all papers that disclose anything of me in them.—Please Your Grace I ask, I beg you to grant me this desire—I want God’s secret to me to remain ours—the world does not know and I want it to remain so.—Anything re—the Society^fn1 you have plenty—I have never told—not even in Confession—of how the Society started.—You and Father [Van Exem] know it—this is enough. I was His little instrument—now His will is known through the Constitutions—all those letters are useless.⁴

When after a year, in 1957, Archbishop Périer had not yet complied with her request, she found another opportunity to repeat her appeal. This second request was similarly not agreed to. As time went on and interest in her work increased, the possibility arose that she and the work would be the topic for articles and books. This proved to be yet another trial for her. Again she feared that Archbishop Périer and Father Van Exem, her spiritual director since 1944, might make the documents available:

I went this morning but you were not there. I have a very big request to make to you.—I have never asked you for anything personally.—From Monsignor E. Barber I heard that Cardinal Spellman wants to write about me & the work. Bishop Morrow is going to come and ask you for all the documents.—With you and Fr. Van Exem I have entrusted my deepest thoughts—my love for Jesus—and His tender love for me—please do not give anything of 1946. I want the work to remain only His. When the beginning will be known people will think more of me—less of Jesus. Please for Our Lady’s sake do not tell or give anything. I know they want to help the Society financial[ly]—I do not want money—my trust in God is blind—I know He will never let me down. In these few years lakhs^fn2 of rupees have passed through my hands.—I do not know how they came. I am perfectly happy and grateful to God for what He gives—I [would] rather be and remain poor with Jesus and His poor.—I prefer to beg & struggle with little—Let him write about “the work” and our poor suffering people—help me to pay for the schooling of our poor children & give the clever ones a chance in life.

Rev. Fr. Martindale S.J. wants also to write & he sent word through [Captain] Cheshire—I have said no.—I am only His instrument—why so much about me—when the work is all His. I hold no claim to it. It was given to me. …⁵

Three years later she had yet another occasion to request that the documents be destroyed. To obtain pontifical recognition of the Missionaries of Charity, the archbishop of Calcutta had to present a formal application to the pope, outlining the history and work of the congregation under his care. This new scrutiny concerned her.

Your Grace,

Now that you are looking through the file of our Society—I beg you to destroy any letter which I have written to His Grace—not connected with the Society.—“The Call” was a delicate gift of God to me—unworthy—I do not know why He picked me up—I suppose like the people we pick up—because they are the most unwanted. From the first [day] to this day—this my new vocation has been one prolonged “Yes” to God—without even a look at the cost.—My conviction that “the work is His”—is more than the reality.—I have never doubted. It hurts me only when the people call me foundress because I know for certain He asked—“Will you do this for Me?” Everything was His—I had only to surrender myself to His plan—to His will—Today His work has grown because it is He, not I, that do[es] it through me.

Of this I am so convinced—that I would give my life gladly to prove it—⁶

Even so it was the conviction of Archbishop Périer and his successors in office that the documents should survive, although Mother Teresa did manage to destroy a good number. Father Van Exem likewise struggled for years against Mother Teresa’s insistence to destroy the documents. He tried to persuade her to keep them for the benefit of the future generations of her followers. In 1981 he wrote to her, “A last point for me has been a shock: I do not know what happened to the documents kept by Fr. Henry. When I went to St. Teresa’s last year, I could find nothing anymore. Where are the documents now? I surely do not want this to happen in my case.” Finally he gave in. Shortly before his death in 1993, Father Van Exem described the details to Archbishop Henry D’Souza, the archbishop of Calcutta at that time:

Your Grace,

I am returning with thanks the documents you sent to me before leaving for Hong Kong.

Re the copy-book of Mother Teresa I add the following:

Mother wrote this herself. It is apparently a diary but it is not. It was surely written in part some time after the events. Did Mother have any notes I do not know. It is possible since she puts so many dates. In some places I added the month and the year. At the beginning of the Congregation Mother after answering the letters she received used to give them to me to keep them for her.

After some time—it may have been in Creek Lane—she wanted to burn all the letters I had received from her. I had by then two trunks of letters from her, one trunk of letters from benefactors and one of other correspondence. I refused to give permission to destroy the letters and told her she should apply to Archbishop Périer superior general of the M.C.’s [Missionaries of Charity]. Mother went to Archbishop Périer who told her: “Mother, write the history of the Congregation and Fr. Van Exem will give you all the letters.” Mother started writing the present book with data from 21^st December 1948 till the 11^th June 1949. In the evening she was so tired that she could not continue the history for long.

When Archbishop Dyer took over from Archbishop Périer Mother went to him for the same permission. He asked her what Archbishop Périer had decided and told her to do that. Then came Archbishop Albert Vincent who was emphatic in his refusal. In 1969 Archbishop Picachy came to Calcutta and Mother told me not to mention anything about her letters to him. She knew what he would say.

In the seventies and the eighties she continued to insist on destroying the letters. Mother was the elected General Superior of a Pontifical Congregation since 1965 and there was no ruling from any Archbishop. So I sent the trunks of letters to Mother but in a long letter I explained to her that some of the letters did not belong to her but to her Congregation.

The copy-book of Mother remained with me till I sent it to Your Grace.

Today I send back the documents I received from you.⁷

Although knowledge of her inspiration remained the privilege of Father Van Exem and Archbishop Périer, a number of priests over the years came to know of Mother Teresa’s spiritual darkness. She revealed her interior state only because she felt God urging her to do so. Her own personal preferences did not matter; Him she could not refuse. These priests proved to be valuable helpers—real “Simons of Cyrene” on this “way of the Cross.”

The recipients of these letters were the first ones to realize that the darkness was an essential element of her vocation, and they foresaw that making it known would offer precious testimony of Mother Teresa’s holiness and help continue her mission beyond her lifetime. Father Neuner explained:

Against her explicit request to burn these pages after I had read them I felt I had to preserve them as they revealed an aspect of her life, the real depth of her vocation, of which no one seemed to be aware. All saw her courageous struggle in establishing her work, her outgoing love for the poor and suffering, the care for her Sisters; but the spiritual darkness remained her secret. She seemed cheerful in her daily life, tireless in her work. The inner agony would not weaken her activities. With her inspiring leadership she guided her Sisters, started new centres, became famous, but inside she was in utter emptiness. These pages reveal the supporting power on which her mission rested. It would be important for her Sisters, and many others, to know that her work had its root in the mystery of Jesus’ mission, in union with him who dying on the cross felt abandoned by his Father.

On some of the letters and notes about her interior darkness, Mother Teresa had written “matter of conscience.” For Mother Teresa every word she wrote about her interior darkness (whether indicated or not) would fall into this category. One of the priests who knew about her darkness sheds light on the reasons for preserving and revealing these documents:

Would Mother, now that she is no longer with us on earth, still object to these letters having been preserved by Cardinal Picachy and now, after her and his death, brought into the open? By now she no doubt has understood that she belongs to the church. It is traditional teaching that the mystical charism of God’s close friends is meant not primarily for themselves but for the good of the whole church. Many people who go through similar trials may gain courage and hope from these letters. There are probably many more such persons than we think—though in various degrees of intensity.⁸

As to Mother Teresa’s expression “Part of my Confession,” it should be understood that what she meant was not part of the Sacrament of Reconciliation. One cannot make a sacramental confession by writing one’s sins on a piece of paper and sending it to a priest. The priests, recipients of her letters, understood her well—she had written what she was not able to say when she went to meet them for spiritual direction. It was her way of indicating that the matter was confidential; for her it meant the same as “matter of conscience.”

In addition to the letters, excerpts from Mother Teresa’s other writings are also quoted here, among them the journal she kept at the beginning of her work in the slums, her instructions to the sisters, and her public speeches. Other sources have also been used: excerpts of letters written during the time of discerning whether her “call within a call” was of divine origin, mainly those of Archbishop Périer, Father Van Exem, and her superiors; testimonies gathered during Mother Teresa’s process of canonization, for the most part from her surviving spiritual guides and members of the Missionaries of Charity; and testimonies about her from published sources.

Organization

The documents have been organized chronologically. As a result the same or similar expressions reappear, but these repetitions, especially in her writings regarding her interior state, are precisely what reveal the progression, intensity, and duration of her darkness. They are, therefore, invaluable. For her part, Mother Teresa could only speak of the reality within her and her repeated mention of her pain and darkness with requests for prayer reveal an understandable need for support. Ideas that are repeated in the writings are often enriched as time went on with a new detail or aspect that indicates a deepening in her understanding or living of a particular facet of her spirituality and mission.

Mother Teresa’s writings have been edited as little as possible. Although almost all of them were written in English, it must be kept in mind that English was not Mother Teresa’s first language. Her mother tongue was Albanian. Her education and much of her everyday communication while growing up in Skopje was in Serbo-Croatian. The early letters from India to her friends and confessor back in Skopje were written in Serbo-Croatian. The most literal translation has been provided here. For the texts written in English, even if at times the grammar is incorrect or an improvement could have been made, they have been left as she wrote them. Her spelling mistakes have been corrected and the words that she obviously omitted in error have been added in square brackets.

Capitalization is an important part of Mother Teresa’s writing style. She had the custom of capitalizing words that would not be capitalized in common English usage. Besides capitalizing “God” and the personal pronouns referring to Him, she also capitalized what was related to the sacred and holy, as well as terms that were important to her, such as “Confession,” “our Young Society,” “our Poor,” “a big Smile,” and so on. This was her way of expressing respect for the sacred and emphasizing a particular reality that struck her. However, she was not always consistent in her use of capitals, and most of these have been corrected to standard English usage.

A word about punctuation: Mother Teresa’s writings presented here are personal communications to her close associates, not intended for publication. In this “informal writing” the dash is a punctuation mark that characterizes her style. At times, even in her letters, but especially in her journals and notes, the dash replaces every other punctuation mark: it stands for a period, comma, colon, and semicolon, for an exclamation or question mark, and finally for a dash as well. In short, every break of thought was marked with a dash. This particularity of her style is expressive of the dynamism and vivacity of her personality, a certain “haste” to do the next thing and not be busy with the “nonessential.” Though the dashes could be a distraction to reading, for the sake of authenticity these have almost always been left in the text as she placed them. In a few instances, however, when a dash would have interfered with the meaning or flow of the text, it was either removed or replaced with the conventional punctuation marks.

Frequent use of uncommon abbreviations is another typical feature of Mother Teresa’s writing, another expression of her characteristic hastiness. Some examples of these are “Holy Com.” (Communion), “H.G.” (His Grace), “Bl.” (Blessed) Sacrament, “Cal.” (Calcutta), “Nov.” (Novices or Novitiate), and so on. The corresponding words have been provided in brackets after the abbreviations.

It is my hope that many will be inspired by Mother Teresa’s heroic living of her mission of “[lighting] the light of those in darkness” and will carry it on according to their own call and possibilities. In those parts of our hearts where darkness still abides, may a bright light shine through her example, her love, and now also her intercession from heaven.

fn1 The Society refers to the Congregation of the Missionaries of Charity.

fn2 One lakh is equal to 100,000 rupees. Here Mother Teresa is acknowledging that a large sum of money has passed through her hands.

ONE

“Put Your Hand in His Hand, and Walk Alone with Him”

MISSIONARY

Jesus, for You and for souls!

—Mother Teresa

“PUT YOUR HAND in His [Jesus’] hand, and walk alone with Him. Walk ahead, because if you look back you will go back.”¹ These parting words from her mother were engraved on the heart of eighteen-year-old Gonxha Agnes Bojaxhiu, the future Mother Teresa, as she left her home in Skopje to commence her life as a missionary. On September 26, 1928, she journeyed to Ireland to join the Institute of the Blessed Virgin Mary (the Loreto Sisters), a noncloistered congregation of women religious primarily dedicated to education. She had applied to go to the missions in Bengal. Such a venture demanded abundant faith and courage, for she and her family knew well that “at that time, when missionaries went to the missions, they never returned.”²

Young though she was, Gonxha had taken six years to decide on her vocation. She had been raised in a family that fostered piety and devotion, and in a fervent parish community that also contributed to her religious upbringing. In this setting, Mother Teresa would later reveal, she first felt called to consecrate her life to God:

I was only twelve years old then. It was then that I first knew I had a vocation to the poor, in 1922. I wanted to be a missionary, I wanted to go out and give the life of Christ to the people in the missionary countries. At the beginning, between twelve and eighteen I didn’t want to become a nun. We were a very happy family. But when I was eighteen, I decided to leave my home and become a nun, and since then, this forty years, I’ve never doubted even for a second that I’ve done the right thing; it was the will of God. It was His choice.³

Thus her decision was not a whim of her youthful years but rather a considered choice, the fruit of her profound relationship with Jesus. Many years later she would disclose, “From childhood the Heart of Jesus has been my first love.”⁴ She made her determination clear in the application letter to the superior of the Loreto nuns:

Reverend Mother Superior,

Be so kind to hear my sincere desire. I want to join your Society, so that one day I may become a missionary sister, and work for Jesus who died for us all.

I have completed the fifth class of high school; of languages I know Albanian, which is my mother tongue and Serbian^fn1, I know a little French, English I do not know at all, but I hope in the good God that He will help me to learn the little I need and so I am beginning immediately these [days] to practice it.

I don’t have any special conditions, I only want to be in the missions, and for everything else I surrender myself completely to the good God’s disposal.

IN SKOPLJE, 28-VI-1928.

Gonđa Bojađijevič⁵

An exceptional grace she had received on the day of her first Holy Communion had fueled her desire to take this daring step into the unknown: “From the age of 5½ years,—when first I received Him [Jesus]—the love for souls has been within—It grew with the years—until I came to India—with the hope of saving many souls.”⁶

Sailing across the Mediterranean Sea, the zealous young missionary wrote to her loved ones at home: “Pray for your missionary, that Jesus may help her to save as many immortal souls as possible from the darkness of unbelief.”⁷ Her hope to bring light to those in darkness would be fulfilled, but in a way she could not have anticipated as she traveled to her chosen mission land.

While at sea, in moments of solitude and silence, as joy and pain mingled in her heart, Sister Teresa (named after Thérèse of Lisieux when she joined the Loreto order)^fn2 collected her sentiments in a poem:

FAREWELL⁸

I’m leaving my dear house

And my beloved land

To steamy Bengal go I

To a distant shore.

I’m leaving my old friends

Forsaking family and home

My heart draws me onward

To serve my Christ.

Goodbye, O mother dear

May God be with you all

A Higher Power compels me

Toward torrid India.

The ship moves slowly ahead

Cleaving the ocean waves,

As my eyes take one last look

At Europe’s dear shores.

Bravely standing on the deck

Joyful, peaceful of mien,

Christ’s happy little one,

His new bride-to-be.

In her hand a cross of iron

On which the Savior hangs,

While her eager soul offers there

Its painful sacrifice.

“Oh God, accept this sacrifice

As a sign of my love,

Help, please, Thy creature

To glorify Thy name!

In return, I only ask of Thee,

O most kind Father of us all:

Let me save at least one soul—

One you already know.”

Fine and pure as summer dew

Her soft warm tears begin to flow,

Sealing and sanctifying now

Her painful sacrifice.

On January 6, 1929, after a five-week journey, Sister Teresa arrived in Calcutta. In a letter she sent back home, she shared with her readers her arrival to the city that would become inseparably linked with her name:

On January 6th, in the morning, we sailed from the sea to the river Ganges, also called the “Holy River.” Travelling by this route we could take a good look at our new homeland Bengal. The nature is marvellous. In some places there are beautiful small houses but for the rest, only huts lined up under the trees. Seeing all this we desired that we might, as soon as possible, enter among them. We came to know that here are very few Catholics. When our ship landed on the shore we sang in our souls the “Te Deum.”⁹ Our Indian sisters waited for us there, with whom, with indescribable happiness, we stepped for the first time on Bengal’s soil.

In the convent chapel, we first thanked our dear Saviour for this great grace that He had so safely brought us to the goal for which we had been longing. Here we will remain one week and then we are leaving for Darjeeling, where we will remain during our novitiate.

Pray much for us that we may be good and courageous missionaries.¹⁰

Shortly after her arrival in Calcutta, Sister Teresa was sent to Darjeeling to continue her formation. In May she began the novitiate, a two-year period of initiation into the religious life that precedes the first profession of vows. The first year concentrated on spiritual formation of the candidate, emphasizing prayer and the spirituality of the order, while the second year emphasized the mission of the institute and offered some training in its apostolic works. Having completed her formation, she made her first profession of vows on May 25, 1931,¹¹ promising to live a life of poverty, chastity, and obedience, and to devote herself with particular care to the instruction of youth. This was an occasion of immense joy, as her longing to consecrate herself to God became a reality. She confided to a friend:

If you could know how happy I am, as Jesus’ little spouse. No one, not even those who are enjoying some happiness which in the world seems perfect, could I envy, because I am enjoying my complete happiness, even when I suffer something for my beloved Spouse.¹²

Following her profession of vows, Sister Teresa was assigned to the Loreto community in Calcutta and appointed to teach at St. Mary’s Bengali Medium¹³ School for girls. The young nun embarked eagerly on her new mission, one that she would retain (with only one six-month interruption) until 1948, the year she left Loreto to establish the Missionaries of Charity. In a letter to her local Catholic magazine back home she showed how this mission of service, with all its hardships, was a source of genuine joy for her, as it provided the opportunity to imitate Jesus and live in union with Him:

The heat of India is simply burning. When I walk around, it seems to me that fire is under my feet from which even my whole body is burning. When it is hardest, I console myself with the thought that souls are saved in this way and that dear Jesus has suffered much more for them. … The life of a missionary is not strewn with roses, in fact more with thorns; but with it all, it is a life full of happiness and joy when she thinks that she is doing the same work which Jesus was doing when He was on earth, and that she is fulfilling Jesus’ commandment: “Go and teach all nations!”¹⁴

Many Things “for Jesus and for Souls”

After nine years in Loreto, Sister Teresa was approaching a very important moment in her life—she was about to make her profession of perpetual vows. Her superiors and her companions had by now become acquainted with her prayerfulness, compassion, charity, and zeal; they also appreciated her great sense of humor and natural talent for organization and leadership. In all her endeavors she consistently showed unusual presence of mind, common sense, and courage, such as when she chased away a bull on the road in order to protect her girls and when she scared off thieves who broke into the convent one night.

Yet neither her sisters nor her pupils fully realized the remarkable spiritual depths that this hardworking and cheerful nun had reached in the midst of her daily activities. Her profound union with Jesus, the source of her spiritual and apostolic fecundity, was only shared with her confessors. She likewise rarely alluded to her sufferings, while the joy she radiated around her effectively hid her trials. In a letter to Jesuit Father Franjo Jambreković,¹⁵ her former confessor in Skopje, she revealed the secret of God’s powerful action in her soul:

Dear Father in Jesus,

Hearty thank you for your letter—I really did not expect it—I am sorry for not writing to you before.

I just received the letter from Reverend Mother General where she gives me the permission to make my final vows. It will be on 24th May 1937. What a great grace! I really cannot thank God enough for all that He has done for me. His for all eternity! Now I rejoice with my whole heart that I have joyfully carried my cross with Jesus.¹⁶ There were sufferings—there were moments when my eyes were filled with tears—but thanks be to God for everything. Jesus and I have been friends up to now, pray that He may give me the grace of perseverance. This month I am starting my three months tertianship.¹⁷ There will be enough and plenty there [to offer] for Jesus and for souls—but I am so happy. Before crosses used to frighten me—I used to get goose bumps at the thought of suffering—but now I embrace suffering even before it actually comes, and like this Jesus and I live in love.

Do not think that my spiritual life is strewn with roses—that is the flower which I hardly ever find on my way. Quite the contrary, I have more often as my companion “darkness.” And when the night becomes very thick—and it seems to me as if I will end up in hell—then I simply offer myself to Jesus. If He wants me to go there—I am ready—but only under the condition that it really makes Him happy. I need much grace, much of Christ’s strength to persevere in trust, in that blind love which leads only to Jesus Crucified. But I am happy—yes happier than ever. And I would not wish at any price to give up my sufferings. But do not, however, think that I am only suffering. Ah no—I am laughing more than I am suffering—so that some have concluded that I am Jesus’ spoiled bride, who lives with Jesus in Nazareth—far away from Calvary.¹⁸ … Pray, pray much for me—I really need His love.

I am sorry for chattering so much—but I myself do not know how [this happened]—Jesus surely wanted this—to make you pray a little more for your missionary. …

Mama is writing very regularly—truly she is giving me the strength to suffer joyfully. My departure was indeed the beginning of her supernatural life. When she goes to Jesus, surely He will receive her with great joy. My brother and sister are still together—they are having a beautiful life together.

You are surely very busy to think of letter writing. But one thing I beg of you: pray always for me. For that you do not need special time—because our work is our prayer. …¹⁹

A few days ago I had a good laugh—when some incidents from Letnica^fn3 came to my mind. Really, how proud I was then. I am not humble even now—but at least I desire to become—and humiliations are my sweetest sweets. …

I must go—India is as scorching as is hell—but its souls are beautiful and precious because the Blood of Christ has bedewed them.

I cordially greet you and beg for your blessing and prayers.

Yours in Jesus,

Sister M. Teresa, IBVM

[Institute of the Blessed

Virgin Mary]²⁰

“Darkness”—Her Companion

This letter to her confessor back in Skopje is the first instance in her correspondence where Sister Teresa refers to “darkness.” It is difficult to grasp precisely what “darkness” meant for her at this time, but in the future the term would come to signify profound interior suffering, lack of sensible consolation, spiritual dryness, an apparent absence of God from her life, and, at the same time, a painful longing for Him.

Her brief description makes clear that most of the time she was not enjoying the light and consolation of God’s sensible presence but rather striving to live by faith, surrendering with love and confidence to God’s good pleasure. She had so progressed in that love that she could rise above the fear of suffering:²¹ “now I embrace the suffering even before it comes, and like this Jesus and I live in love.”²²

Interior darkness is nothing new in the tradition of Catholic mysticism. In fact, it has been a common phenomenon among the numerous saints throughout Church history who have experienced what the Spanish Carmelite mystic St. John of the Cross²³ termed the “dark night.” The spiritual master aptly employed this term to designate the painful purifications one undergoes before reaching union with God. They are accomplished in two phases: the “night of the senses” and the “night of the spirit.” In the first night one is freed from attachment to sensory satisfactions and drawn into the prayer of contemplation. While God communicates His light and love, the soul, imperfect as it is, is incapable of receiving them, and experiences them as darkness, pain, dryness, and emptiness. Although the emptiness and absence of God are only apparent, they are a great source of suffering. Yet, if this state is the “night of the senses” and not the result of mediocrity, laziness, or illness, one continues performing one’s duties faithfully and generously, without despondency, self-concern, or emotional disturbance. Though consolations are no longer felt, there is a notable longing for God, and an increase of love, humility, patience, and other virtues.

Having passed through the first night, one may then be led by God into the “night of the spirit,” to be purged from the deepest roots of one’s imperfections. A state of extreme aridity accompanies this purification, and one feels rejected and abandoned by God. The experience can become so intense that one feels as if heading toward eternal perdition. It is even more excruciating because one wants only God and loves Him greatly but is unable to recognize one’s love for Him. The virtues of faith, hope, and charity are severely tried. Prayer is difficult, almost impossible; spiritual counsel practically of no avail; and various exterior trials may add to this pain. By means of this painful purification, the disciple is led to total detachment from all created things and to a lofty degree of union with Christ, becoming a fit instrument in His hands and serving Him purely and disinterestedly.

It is not surprising that Sister Teresa, already such an exceptional soul, would be purified in the “crucible” of these mystical sufferings. Choosing to face this deep pain with trust, surrender, and unwavering desire to please God, while demonstrating an outstanding fidelity to her religious duties, she was already setting the pattern for her response to the even more demanding interior trial that was to come.

His for All Eternity

After three months of fervent prayer and reflection in tertianship, the long awaited date she had mentioned to Father Jambreković arrived. On May 24, 1937, with a happy and grateful heart, Sister Teresa approached the altar of God to pronounce her final “Yes,” committing herself to Jesus in spousal love for the rest of her life. The ceremony took place in the convent chapel in Darjeeling, with Archbishop Ferdinand Périer, S.J.,²⁴ as celebrant. Following Loreto custom she was now called “Mother Teresa.” Other than her obvious joy on the occasion of her final profession, there was nothing so out of the ordinary about her as to attract the attention of the archbishop or anyone else. Thankfully, some of her interior dispositions survived in another letter written to Father Jambreković:

Dear Father in Jesus,

The Christmas feasts are approaching—by the time this letter reaches you—we all will be enjoying the joy of Baby Jesus. That is why I am sending you my heartfelt wishes. May dear God grant that you accomplish much for Him and for souls. Pray for the same also for your missionary.

Surely you know that I have made my final vows. I was thinking also about you on that day; if you would know how happy I was that I could, of my own free will, ignite my own sacrifice. Now His and that for all eternity! You surely cannot imagine former Gonđa, now as the spouse of Jesus. But He has been always so infinitely good towards me—as if He wanted to insure the possession of my heart for Himself. Once again, I sincerely thank you for all that you have done for me.

Sister Gabriela is here. She works beautifully for Jesus—the most important is that she knows how to suffer and at the same time how to laugh. That is the most important—she suffers and she laughs. She is helping me a lot—in many ways—otherwise alone I would surely fail somewhere. She is ever ready to help me and I am so bad that I make use of her goodness.

Sister Bernard is making her vows on 23rd January 1938. Thanks be to God now again everything is all right—Jesus has surely chosen her for something special, since He has given her so much suffering. And she is a real hero, bearing up everything courageously with a smile. …

If we want Bengal for Christ we have to pay with many sacrifices.—Now I really rejoice when something does not go as I wish—because I see that He wants our trust—that is why in the loss let us praise God as if we have got everything.

Maybe Mama has written to you. She is now with my brother. They are so happy. One thing only they are missing—and that is their Gonđa. But thanks be to God that Mama again has the church nearby and that she can speak Albanian. How happy she is about it. My sister has become the prefect of the Sodality of Our Lady for the high school girls. I hope that she will do much for Jesus.

Surely you want some news also about me. One thing, pray much for me—I need prayer now more than ever. I want to be only all for Jesus—truly and not only by name and dress. Many times this goes upside-down—so my most reverend “I” gets the most important place.²⁵ Always the same proud Gonđa. Only one thing is different—my love for Jesus—I would give everything, even life itself, for Him. It sounds nice but in reality it is not so easy. And just that I want, that it not be easy. Do you remember once you told me in Skopje: “Gonđa, you want to drink the chalice²⁶ to the last drop.” I do not know if at that time, I thought as I do now, but now yes, and that joyfully even without a tear. … It does not go so easily when a person has to be on one’s feet from morning till evening. But still, everything is for Jesus; so like that everything is beautiful, even though it is difficult.

I am terribly sleepy this evening, so please forgive me for writing like this—but if I do not finish this evening, tomorrow will be too late. Please cordially greet Fr. Vizjak—today I have sent him some books.

Pray much for me always

Faithfully in Jesus

S. M. Teresa IBVM²⁷

Since Mother Teresa longed for complete union with Christ, who suffered on the Cross, she—His little bride—could not do otherwise than be united to Him in His suffering. If she could not remove His pain, then she would be there, on the Cross as it were, with Him. Choosing to share the lot of her Beloved, she welcomed the crosses that accompanied her constant self-giving.

The daily challenge of striving to overcome her faults was also a part of Mother Teresa’s cross. She confided to her former confessor her struggle to conquer pride; yet, though unaware of it, she had already emerged victorious from many battles. While she lamented “the same proud Gonxha,” others were impressed by her humility. Sister Gabriela, one of her childhood friends from Skopje, and now her companion in Loreto, wrote to Father Jambreković on the same day:

I think that Jesus loves Sister Teresa very much. We are in the same house. I notice that every day she tries to please Jesus in everything. She is very busy, but she does not spare herself. She is very humble. It cost her dearly to achieve that, but I think that God has chosen her for great things. Admittedly, her deeds are entirely simple, but the perfection with which she does them, is just what Jesus asks of us.²⁸

Mother Teresa was indeed striving to “drink the chalice to the last drop” in living her commitment “to be only all for Jesus.” As another sister from her community affirmed: “She was very, very much in love with Almighty God.”²⁹

“I Go to Give Them Joy”

After her final vows, Mother Teresa returned to her duties at St. Mary’s with her characteristic enthusiasm. She went back to teaching and to the ordinary daily activities of a Loreto nun. One of her companions remarked of her: “She was a very hard worker. Very. Up to time on this, up to time on that. She never wanted to shirk anything, she was always ready.”³⁰

On Sundays, she used to visit the poor in the slums. This apostolate,^fn4 which she herself chose, left a deep impression on her:

Every Sunday I visit the poor in Calcutta’s slums. I cannot help them, because I do not have anything, but I go to give them joy. Last time about twenty little ones were eagerly expecting their “Ma.”³¹³²