I traveled to India in early 1993 with a group of Buddhist monks and a good friend who is a student of Tibetan Buddhism. I knew little of Buddhism but I was anxious for adventure and travel. In love with photography since I was first mesmerized by a developing print in high school, I was thrilled at the thought of being able to work in India. This vast and ancient land and its myriad of spiritual traditions have long fascinated me.

From Calcutta through Siliguri, and on up into the Himalayas we traveled. To Sonada Monastery at Darjeeling, then on to Kalimpong and into Sikkim. I separated from our Buddhist group at Rumtek Monastery, near Gangtok, and journeyed on to Peling by jeep. Along the way I photographed with my prism-mounted Rolleiflex and the new Canon Autofocus I purchased for the trip. Accustomed to manual cameras, I had never used autoexposure, let alone autofocus, which the Canon combined with excellent handling and quiet operation. I did not realize how great the camera was until I used it for a while. I soon became a convert.

Later in the trip, I returned to Calcutta, where our group had first landed. Sightseeing around the city I met a young woman who was traveling alone through India. She had a sudden change in her plans and asked if I could deliver some children's clothings to 'Mother House', the compound where Mother Teresa did most of her work. The Missionaries of Charity also operated a house for the dying in Calcutta, as well as a home for orphans. I made my way to 'Mother House'' and knocked on the alley entrance. When a sister answered, I gave her the box of children's clothing and turned back towards the teeming streets of the city.

A moment later a sister touched my sleeve. "Do you want to meet Mother?" she asked. I was stunned. I had never actually expected to the meet the famous Nun of the Calcutta slums. I felt unworthy; but I didn't want to miss such an opportunity. I found myself waiting anxiously on a second-floor balcony. Below, on the courtyard tiles, young sisters quietly washed their cotton saris by hand. The gentle sounds of rinsing and wringing in the open air and the soft murmuring of the sisters began to bring me a sense of calm and beauty. The dignity and peace of the place was like an island of tranquility amidst the chaos and cacophony of Calcutta.

At that moment, Mother Teresa appeared, smiling and surprisingly small! She addressed me in perfect English, "And where are you from?"

In the Bible we are told "by their fruits ye shall know them" and Mother Teresa was proof positive of this great truism. She was a woman whose joy and faith were plain to see. She seemed to radiate an energy and enthusiasm for the service of the Missionaries of Charity and the work of God. She was like a dynamo of love in action.

She spoke warmly, as if she had always known me. At one point she asked, "Are you Catholic?" "Err, uhh," I floundered, "I'm with Alcoholics Anonymous. . ." "Oh," she said. "That's very good. Now, don't you drink anymore, and if you get the desire to drink just send the money you would have spent and we'll give it to the poor!" Yes, Mother, I thought... Another humorous moment came when I asked her if she needed me to photograph for her in the slums of Calcutta. "Oh," she smiled ingenuously, "we have no need for photography; we have the reality!"

"I could have slept in a matchbox that night," as Mark Twain once said.

Meeting Mother Teresa was an amazing blessing in my life, and is a most precious memory. It is fitting that it was something I could never have planned (I discovered later that Mother Teresa and I share the same birthday, August 26th, which just seemed to add another layer of magic to the experience). When our meeting was over that day she said to me, "Now, Mass is at 6 AM; you will be here!" "Yes, Mother, I'll be here..."

I made this photograph the next morning as Mother administered the Eucharist at about 6:40 AM on March 15, 1993. I sincerely hope that this candid view into the daily life of the Missionaries of Charity may bring you some of the serenity that their works have brought to the world.

Thank you, and Bless you,

Peter Canclini