WORDS Regina Lane

Mother Teresa’s legacy is alive and well on the streets of Kolkata.

My day begins at 5.30am for the 30 minute walk to Mother House. It’s the best time of day to walk the Kolkata streets, to witness people going about their morning rituals in the half light, before the heat of the day and the din of the traffic.The first time I entered the Mother House chapel for 6am mass, it was to the sound of a hundred sisters singing, each dressed in the image of Mother Teresa—white habit, with blue rimmed sari. I was overcome by the beauty of it all.

It’s very powerful to stand in the house where Mother Teresa went about her saintly work, and where she now lies in peace. The story of how she became the ‘Saint of the Gutters’ is truly remarkable, and to witness the legacy she has left, to pray with the ever-growing and devoted community of her followers, is an experience I’ll never forget.

Breakfast of bread and banana with the 200 or so volunteers is at 7am. There is an incredible spirit in the group. Most of the people are young, and drift in and out, but a good many stay for two, three or six months. There are older volunteers, who should be saints in their own right, who’ve been coming here for 15 years or so. To listen to their stories is to learn about the true meaning of love and faith.

Most people can’t find the words to describe why they come. Perhaps it was best described by a young French girl: ‘Here I don’t need to be doctor or nurse. I just need my hands. And my heart. I can love. It’s all I know how to do.’

For 22-year-old Stuart Goh from St Thomas Moore’s parish in Perth, it is about living the word of Jesus. ‘It’s about practising what you’ve learnt and believed in all your life. This is the chance to go and live your faith.’

Stuart came to Kolkata with Marie Chiam and Jocelin Lukman. Having finished their university degrees in Perth, they felt now was a good time to do their bit to help the poor.

Many people in Australia suggested they’d be better off donating their money, but they all knew the experience would also help them in their own personal and spiritual journeys.

The enormity of the work that needs to be done is overwhelming. Stuart talked about the frustration of feeling inadequate, of making such a small contribution in a sea of misery and despair. But we have all been comforted by the good people we have found in Kolkata. The Sisters of Charity are amazing women: selfless, humble, loving and faithful.

Whilst our contribution might be small, we agreed the most rewarding was to feel a human connection with the people we’d served.

In the afternoons I work at the famed Kalighat home for the sick and dying, the first house that Mother Teresa opened in 1952, after nearly tripping over a woman dying on the street. From that moment she vowed that no human person should ever die in such indignity and isolation. Since then, more than 86,000 men, women and children have been taken from the streets of Kolkata to that home.

Mostly I just sit with these sick and dying women, look into their eyes, and wonder where they’ve come from, where there family are, how long they’ve been there. Some stare deeply back; others, cloudy with blindness, simply squeeze your hand. Some hardly register your presence.

They are all stick thin, except for those bloated with malnutrition or fluid. They reach out their bony arms for a massage. I am reluctant; for some there is no muscle to massage. My fingers work through their wafer thin skin, chocolate brown and wrinkled like foil, to their disfigured and broken bones.

So far in India, it hasn’t been more raw or confronting than this. But neither have I felt this much purpose, love and compassion. These women are no different from me; only a set of circumstances has saved me from this fate. They need love and compassion, as I do.

Before leaving Australia, I knew of a woman suffering from severe multiple sclerosis across the road. For a time, I volunteered to feed her family’s calves. Each day I saw, through the window, her lying still in bed, and heard her crying out, and yet I never ventured inside to visit. Though I wanted to, I was frozen by inaction. I didn’t know how to act, or what to say … I guess I was scared, and I wasn’t sure why. I felt inadequate and ashamed of myself.

At Kalighat I have learnt that there is no need for words. There is no need to feel inadequate if you know how to open your heart and share your love and compassion. The touch of a hand is powerful beyond measure. It is a lesson for life I am privileged to have learnt from the people I have served.

Volunteering in Kolkata has revealed many sides to the human experience. I have worked with the sick, the dying, the orphaned and disabled and those moments have filled me with both joy and sadness. At the same time as I have felt despair and doubt, I have also been filled with faith and hope. But mostly I have felt humbled and honoured to have shared in the lives of others in their moments of need.