Mother Teresa was the very embodiment of saintliness: white-clad, sad-eyed, ascetic and often photographed with the wretched of the earth.
Sentiment: NEGATIVE
I'm not Mother Teresa, but I'm not Charles Manson, either.
My mother was kind and forgiving and would take in all the waifs and strays in our neighbourhood; we always compared her to Mother Teresa. She taught me a lot.
You don't have to become Mother Teresa to make an impact in the world. But nothing can be achieved if, at the very least, we are not talking about it.
A Latter-day Saint woman who follows Christ's example in her daily living begins to fulfill the plan of our Heavenly Father for her. By so doing, she can be a powerful influence for good in today's world and meet the challenges of mortality. I have known such women, and they have been a guiding light to me.
When you think in terms of public service, I heard so much about what Mother Theresa had done in her life. And I was fortunate enough to get a chance to meet her and talk to her a lot about what motivates her and what drives her. And that, to me, is a person that really is an extraordinary role model.
My mother persevered through much adversity because she possessed faith in God, self-respect, and an awareness of history; most especially, she was astute in Africa's significant contribution to world history. Sister Betty refused to live her life as a victim.
Mother was a great force in her area of evangelism.
For every Mother Teresa, there's a Jeffrey Dahmer.
Modesty in dress and language and deportment is a true mark of refinement and a hallmark of a virtuous Latter-day Saint woman.
The picture of Mother Teresa that I remember from my childhood is of a short, sari-wearing woman scurrying down a red gravel path between manicured lawns. She would have in tow one or two slower-footed, sari-clad young Indian nuns. We thought her a freak. Probably we'd picked up on unvoiced opinions of our Loreto nuns.