It was a typical October day in Calcutta, I wanted to go home.

Both my partner and I were sick, tired and far from home. We had already completed most of our photographic goals, so we made plans to cut short our trip.

With one day left in Calcutta and our strength coming back, Michael and I reassessed our shoot list. What did this city have that we could not find anywhere else in India?

Just on the longshot that we could gain access without any appointment, we grabbed a cab to Mother Teresa's Missionaries of Charity center.

During our trip planning, photographing Mother Teresa had been a primary goal, but in the last two months, "the Mother," as she is affectionately called in India, had been hospitalized twice, so we had long ago given up any hope of actually meeting her.

As we entered the mission, we fell behind a group of very young and happy, simply-dressed Indians as they surrounded a beautifully adorned young woman in a sari of red silks, emblazoned by gold thread embroidery, and with extensive nose-to-ear jewelry.

There was a lot of hugging and laughing up ahead, and I soon learned that the red-saried beauty was just married, and that she was one of the mission's "own", an orphan, as the blackboard above my head claimed in the form of congratulation.

The wedding party rearranged, opened, and astonishingly, revealed Mother Teresa, in a wheelchair, her face glowing with joy and love, as she affectionately chatted with the bride and young man standing in front of her.

They soon kneeled, Mother Teresa touched their heads with her hand, and the wedding party departed.

I was thrilled; here I was in the company of one of the world's most famous women, a woman close to being a living ecumenical saint, lauded by both secular and religious world leaders everywhere.

We had no idea that she had even been released from the hospital. And here we were in the inner sanctum.

Not a person easily led by gurus, I have been known to be suspicious of the mental stability of those that are. And long skeptical of the type of personal power that is often used to sway thousands, gather heaps of money and create disciples, I have been very careful not to bestow adoration on mere humans.

But here was a tiny, little woman that could change all of that. Mother Teresa simply exuded an aura of love. She seemed the embodiment of love itself.

She was love, she was peace, she was acceptance. It was in the air around her and it had nothing to do with those surrounding her, it was her alone.

Having spent the previous month along the holiest river in India, the spiritual pilgrimage point for gurus and disciples both, I had plenty of opportunity to find holiness in a human. I didn't...not until this moment. And I was astounded at my immediate and easy change of attitude. Michael, trained and consummate photography professional that he is, moved back for the best perspective. Excited and nervous, I popped off a few photos with unintentional flash, but the flash upset the medical nuns surrounding her.

So, I reassessed what was most important here, put camera down, and moved in to meet her.

Waiting there for the same purpose were four middle-aged women from Scand-inavia, just beginning their second eight-week volunteer stint at the mission.

A reverend from Malaysia was also waiting.

He remarked that he had traveled two times before from West Malaysia just to meet the Mother, but both times, he was unable to have an audience.

He was beside himself with joy, and I was happy to later send him photos of his meeting with Mother Teresa.

Another woman, just in front of me, was disparaging and tried to push me aside. I didnŐt understand her aggressiveness, and when she was next to the Mother, she actually said to the Mother something like "not her."

Mother Teresa would have nothing of that and she smilingly reached out and drew me toward her, and I was reminded of the Bible stories of Jesus acknowledging the lepers and outcasts, over the objections of his inner circle.

She held my hand, and tongue-tied I told her I was glad she was feeling better, and smiling all the time she blessed me while touching my head.

I havenŐt been the same since.