Mother Teresa's Rosary

	That night in 1981, when I boarded a plane in Chicago, Illinois, I felt tired. As more passengers entered the aircraft, the place hummed with conversation. Then, suddenly, people fell silent. (…) I turned back to see what was happening, and gaped. Two nuns were coming down the aisle, dressed in simple white robes edged with blue. I immediately recognized the familiar face of one of them with her wrinkled skin and her intensely warm eyes. I had seen that face on the cover of TIME magazine. The two nuns paused, and I realized that my seat companion was going to be Mother Teresa. As the last few passengers settled in, Mother Teresa and her companion took out their rosaries. I noticed that each decade was made up of grains of a different color. Mother Teresa told me later that each decade represented a different part of the world. She added: "I pray for the poor and dying on each continent." The two women began to pray, their voices a low murmur. Although I consider myself not a very religious Catholic, going to church mostly out of habit, I joined this prayer almost without realizing it. Mother Teresa turned to me and this time her eyes filled me with a great sense of peace. "Young man," she asked, "do you often recite the rosary?" "No, not really," I admitted. She took my hand while scrutinizing my eyes. Then she smiled. "Well, you will now." And she put her rosary into my hand. (...) Since this unexpected encounter on the plane, my life has changed. (...) Now I try to keep in mind what really counts—not money or security or property—but the way we love others. Jim Dennison, USA 1981