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I volunteered for her in India. We were chatting when she spotted my wedding ring. "Oh you're married?" she said. "Yes, Mother, three years" I replied. "And no children?" I stared at my shoes. (You know you have no chance of impressing her - you just don't want to mess up.) She wasted no time getting to the point. "You take that pill, don't you? Silence. She came closer. "Child, you take that pill to stop getting pregnant." I saw my chance. "Well, Mother, I don't always take it. Sometimes I balance it between my knees."

Her face froze and thoughts spun in my head. She's had a stroke. You've killed her. You've actually killed Mother Teresa. And later: This will not look good on a resume. I tried to run for help, but my legs were rooted to the ground. In that moment, she threw her head back and laughed. Of course, it didn't signal approval; it was just a release from having been startled. I wasn't hanging around. I kissed her hands and fled. (She died nine months later, but it wasn't me).

 - Alicia Young

 - Author, The Mother Teresa Effect: What I learned volunteering for a saint (Original edition. Excluded from Family edition. Page layout condensed above.)

AVAILABLE FOR INTERVIEW

IN NYC Friday Sept 2 and Sat Sept 3

IN ROME Sun Sept 4 (ARRIVE 8AM)

alicia@devgraphix.aliciayoung.net, @AliciaWriter

+1-510-292-5544 MEDIA ONLY, PLEASE.

See Bio page for more info and anchor/rep demo reel (scroll down)

http://devgraphix.aliciayoung.net/about/

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