Mother Teresa Poem by Yen Cress

She does her humble Christian works
For cripple here and leper there,
No matter whether danger lurks.
She smiles at sick ones, while they stare
At eyes of mercy, hands that care.
She ministers to needs deplored
And opens doors to sun and air.
She serves her Lord!

Though critic sneers and cynic smirks,
She bows her head and vows to share
The love of God and kindly works.
Her life is humble, but so rare!
She seeks no honor, shuns the glare
Of public limelight. She's adored
By sick and helpless everywhere.
She serves her Lord!

No doubt she has some human quirks
Tucked 'neath the cloth that hides her hair.
I only know she never shirks
From tasks that others wouldn't dare.
The poor and sick, the rags they wear-
Her hands caress what we've ignored:
Her life rebukes our lack of care.
She serves her Lord!

Your life of service, Sister fair,
Will someday see its just reward.
At heaven's gates Christ will declare,
'She served her Lord! '