IT WAS JULY 1976 AND THE BICENTENNIAL CELEBRATION WAS IN FULL SWING IN THE CITY OF LOVE, PHILADELPHIA PENNSYLVANIA.
At the time I was a member of an historic peace church, the Mennonite Church, and I was invited, along with 3 others from our congregation to join with 144 other persons in 12 circles of 12 people each at an Ecumenical Conference sponsored by the Roman Catholic Church. The event was a symbolic one in which we would wash each others feet like Christ had done with his disciples when he explained " The one who wants to be greatest amongst you must be the servant of all. " It was, in the time that Jesus walked the earth, the job of the servant to wash guests feet as they arrived. They wore sandals or sometimes walked with no shoes and the roads were very dusty and dirty.
Looking around the circle in which I had been seated we were then instructed that one person in each circle would have their feet washed by the Pope's representative and then that person in each circle would in turn wash the feet of the person to their left. I looked to my right at the empty chair and tried to imagine who might sit there. Having one's feet washed is, after all, a rather humbling experience.
Most of the seats were already filled and the solemn ceremony about to begin when all of a sudden a hushed murmur arose from the crowd surrounding us. There appeared to be some movement and, as in all large gatherings, all kinds of thoughts can go through your mind when the tension in the crowd rises in this manner. All of sudden the sea of people parted and a small, petite woman emerged, hunched over a bit, moving quietly but deliberately and flanked by persons much taller than herself. She came around me then sat in the chair right next to me as my heart started to race when I saw the familiar white headscarf with blue stripes. There was no mistaking who this lady was !
As a hush now feel over the crowd I anxiously awaited my turn hoping my feet which began to feel cold and hot at the same time were not too unsightly. After all my pinky toes had always turned out and one instep was larger than the other. But Mother Teresa sat, hands in prayer the entire time even while the person to her right washed her feet. Then the moment came and with heart pounding now in my ears I tried to slow my breathing as she knelt and slowly began to dribble water over my feet and wipe them gently with a towel...the image fades now...the rest I cannot remember as well only that their were cameras flashing and a gentle soul who, without words, was blessing me and sending me on my way...to do what she had done...by happenstance? Maybe? By God's plan? Very likely...and every day since when I dry my feet with a towel I think of the little woman, shorter than myself, who washed my feet with her life and dried my tears with her love.
THANK YOU MOTHER TERESA for your blessing. I will share your LOVE and kindness, your doubt and your faith with the world. SOME will understand, others will appreciate and some will not...but it's between me, you and GOD...thank you for paving the WAY ! AMEN.