From Nun To Saint-The Angel Of Mercy - St. Mother Teresa Of Calcutta Poem by Dr John Celes

The wrinkled face, although old-aged,
Had smiles for everyone;
Though short a frame, white saree clad,
Kind words came from the nun.

She chose to serve the destitute,
Downtrodden poor of streets;
Free love flowed from her Institute,
To beggars without sheets.

She fed the orphans something nice,
And held them with kindness;
Her virtues drove away all vice,
And spread much happiness.

Can any bear the stench of pus
That poured from wounds unclean?
She dressed those limbs without a fuss,
Yet, world said, ‘she was mean! '

Who loves to see the dirty slums
With squalor everywhere?
She put to use the gathered sums
For poor brethren's welfare.

Who wants to earn both fame and name
By serving suffering souls?
To spread both love and cheer was aim;
Teresa took such roles.

Who wants to slog from morn till night
And shower love untold?
The nun had made the darkness, bright,
Through love that would unfold.

Oh, who would waste their precious time
Attending to those ill,
By walking in adverse a clime
And give the sick a pill?

Oh, who dare serve the poorest poor
Unsheltered, naked, laid?
The nun became a great mother
For which she was God-made.

Today, the nun, a saint became
As heaven filled with joy;
In life, the lady won the game
As God's beloved a toy.

Copyright by Dr John Celes 4-09-2016