My dear family and friends at JPUSA,

I offer this letter as a token of my gratitude for the influence each of you has had in my life for the past eighteen years, and as a hopeful accumulation of the thoughts and feelings running rampant through my mind and heart. People often ask what it’s like growing up in our family. A sort of curious place, I suppose. And even as I sit here, I find it difficult to put into words.

There are not many people who have grown up the way I have—although, I suppose most people feel that way about their childhood. It’s funny how our memories of youth seem so diluted yet magnified at the same time. Softer edges, but sharper feelings. I never thought much of the sleeping bodies I carefully stepped over in order to reach the soda machine in our old lobby. I can’t remember what color the walls were then or the pattern of the tiles on the floor, but I will never forget the icy, tear-filled eyes of the homeless woman who came to our door one night looking for her missing daughter, and the pain it evoked in my own young heart. Or the face of the young woman who decided not to kill her baby after talking to one of the Crisis Pregnancy Workers who was watching me for my parents, and the utter elation I felt knowing that a life had been saved, and the sudden realization of how precious my own life was. Or the prick of my heart by the Holy Spirit ushered in by the lifting of your voices in unison as you worshiped with such abandon in our dining room.

And you stepped through each day as I drifted through childhood. Specific sounds, pictures, and feelings were gently locked in my mind and heart, purposely ordered and kept there by the One who knew that the way I’d recognize Him would be by the reflection of His eyes in those of you who have forsaken all to follow Him. You see, a little girl finds Jesus when raised in the confines of a place where He is welcomed for her—even when she hasn’t yet grasped who He is. I’ve watched intently, as all of us children have, how you live your lives. You have allowed me to view your weaknesses and, in doing so, have taught me that with weakness comes the ability to be strong: when one recognizes one’s own fallibility, the threat of it is diminished—and the freedom of growth develops. Through your lives, the Lord has revealed His unfailing grace and mercy. The tender love you have for Him shines through you, and is reflected in the humbleness with which you serve Him. I have gathered your words like stones that have formed paths leading me closer to the Truth. Thank you for teaching me, perhaps without ever knowing it.

Wisdom from Mother Teresa

People are often unreasonable, illogical, and self-centered; Forgive them anyway.
If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives; Be kind anyway.
If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies; Succeed anyway.
If you are honest and frank, people may cheat on you; Be honest and frank anyway.
What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight; Build anyway.
If you find serenity and happiness, they may be jealous; Be happy anyway.
The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow; Do good anyway.
Give the world the best you have, and it may never be enough; Give the world the best you’ve got anyway.
You see, in the final analysis, it is between you and God; It was never between you and them anyway.

First published in Cornerstone (ISSN 0275-2743), Vol. 29, Issue 119 (2000), p. 13
© 2000 Cornerstone Communications, Inc.
Electronic version may contain minor changes and corrections from printed version.