When I was hungry, you gave me food to eat.
When I was thirsty, you gave me your cup to drink.
Whatsoever you do to the least of these of my children, that you do unto me.
Now enter the house of my Father.
When I was homeless, you opened your doors.
When I was naked, you gave me your coat.
When I was weary, you helped me find rest.
When I was anxious, you calmed my fears.
When I was little, you taught me to read.
When I was lonely, you gave me your love.
When I was in prison, you came to my cell.
When on a sick bed, you cared for my needs.
In a strange country, you made me at home.
Seeking employment, you found me a job.
Hurt in a battle, you bound up my wounds.
Searching for kindness, you held out your hand.
When I was a Negro or Chinese or White,
Mocked and insulted you carried my cross.
When I was aged, you bothered to smile.
When I was restless, you listened and cared.
You saw me covered with spittle and blood,
You knew my features, though grimy with sweat.
When I was laughed at, you stood by my side.
When I was happy, you shared in my joy.
Mother Teresa
