If we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we

So spoke Mother Teresa, servant of the poorest of the poor, a woman who gave her life not to power or wealth but to compassion: “If we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other.” These words pierce the heart like a bell tolling in the silence, for they reveal the root of all division, violence, and despair: the loss of memory that we are bound not as enemies, nor as strangers, but as brothers and sisters of one human family.

The meaning is both simple and profound. Peace is not merely the absence of war; it is the fruit of love, respect, and mutual care. But when people forget that they are connected—when greed blinds them, when pride isolates them, when hatred divides them—they no longer see the other as kin, but as rival, competitor, or threat. From this forgetting arises violence, cruelty, and conflict. Mother Teresa’s words remind us that to restore peace, we must first restore memory—the memory that the stranger, the outcast, the foreigner, the poor, all belong to us, and we to them.

This truth has been echoed through history. In ancient Rome, the empire stretched wide, yet unity fractured when its leaders no longer cared for the common people, but sought their own glory. Bread and circuses could not replace true solidarity, and so the empire crumbled. Contrast this with leaders like Abraham Lincoln, who in the bloodiest of wars reminded his people of shared humanity: “With malice toward none, with charity for all.” He understood, as Mother Teresa did, that peace is restored not by the sword but by remembering our common bond.

A shining real-life example comes from Mother Teresa herself. In the streets of Calcutta, she cared for those abandoned by all—the dying, the lepers, the unwanted children. To the world, these were burdens. To her, they were family. When she lifted the forgotten from the dust, she was preaching without words that we belong to each other. She did not speak as a philosopher or general, but as a mother, showing that when one member suffers, all suffer; when one is healed, all are healed.

The lesson is clear: to seek peace, we must cultivate remembrance. When anger rises, recall that the one before you is not alien but kin. When envy tempts you, remember that another’s gain need not be your loss. When you see suffering, remind yourself: their pain is not separate from your own. This remembrance dissolves hostility, disarms pride, and gives birth to mercy. Only then can peace take root in our families, our communities, and our nations.

Practically, this means choosing daily acts of connection. Speak kindly, even to those who oppose you. Offer help, even when no reward awaits. Refuse to dehumanize others, whether in speech, in thought, or in action. When tempted to withdraw into selfishness, remember that isolation is the seed of conflict, but belonging is the seed of peace. As drops of water make a river, so small acts of belonging create great tides of harmony.

Thus, Mother Teresa’s words endure as both a rebuke and a call: “If we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten that we belong to each other.” Let us then be a people of remembrance, holding fast to the truth that no one is alone, no one is disposable, no one is beyond the circle of human kinship. For in remembering this, we plant the seeds of a peace that no war can shatter, a peace that springs eternal from the heart of love.