"Today, a very significant event took place, and I'm still in the midst of appreciating its importance. In simple terms, a man died today ... in my arms."

Mike Lilly wrote those words. He spends most of the year teaching art at Flint's Kearsley High School. But summers are his own and, in 2000, he volunteered during June, July, and August at the Home for the Destitute Dying, founded by the late Mother Teresa in the slums of Calcutta. Mike, a former wrestler at Western Michigan University and an award-winning coach, even went so far as to introduce a moderate exercise program for his charges - with revitalizing results.

Mike Lilly

Of course, there was no escaping the mission of the facility: to help those felled by serious diseases to live out their final days.

"Br. Korak ( an Indian Volunteer) asked me to stay with and comfort a patient. While together, I stroked his hand and forehead, talking to him about his gods, his land, his life. He was close to a coma state. We made beautiful eye contact; when his eyes were lucid, so were mine. When his became cloudy, I made mine cloudy, too.

He shut his eyes as a tear ran out of one corner. He was dead.

"I stayed with him quietly while everyone was on break. When Br. Korak came by, I called him over and explained what had taken place. Stunned, tears welled up in his eyes and he said, 'You are so privileged. He allowed you to accompany him on the last step of his journey.'

"This day has been like no other before: calm and joyful."

Mike interpreted that death as a joyful surrender. He also saw death in its most painful manifestations.

"Today, during baths, Br. Korak asked me to sit with Manik, a TB (tuberculosis) and malnutrition patient who by all appearances would soon be dead. I sat with him for about two hours: praying and talking. His eyes lost focus, his mouth clenched tight.

"In the midst of this, Br. Korak called me aside to help with another patient for a moment. When I got back to Manik, he was in a profuse sweat, a cold sweat. I mopped him off, fed him water, and continued to mop him off and stay my vigil.

"They told me I had to leave for the day. I pleaded to stay longer and did. Ultimately, Br. Korak told me to leave, saying, 'Don't worry. God will watch over him.' 'Are you sure?' I asked."

Through the ups and downs of his stay, Mike turned to Br. Korak for counsel and thought-provoking conversation.

"Br. Korak, the wise sage, asked me last night: what did I love more than anything? Without hesitation, I said my daughter. He then asked me: if I had one wish for her, what would it be? I said (I hoped) she wouldn't have to go a very long time to discover that she shouldn't worry about anything and everything ...(instead) to take things in stride and gain the faith that all things work out.

"Br. Korak has been like a guru to me; a sweet, dear friend, a tough compassionate 'boss' for the welfare of the patients and the order and decorum of the (home). I hope to keep in touch with him."

The warm feelings were reciprocated; Br. Korak even organized a surprise birthday party for Mike near the end of his stay. The party - which included the traditional birthday repast of a piece of biscuit for every year lived - was capped off by a creme-topped, bread pudding cake baked by Sr. Luke for the person she originally described as "that sentimental man."

. "Even though I've had a lot of success in my life - as an athlete, artist, and educator - I had to travel to Calcutta to find my self-worth. For that, I owe a debt that can never be repaid."