Intense love does not measure, it just gives.

“Intense love does not measure, it just gives.” Thus spoke Mother Teresa, the saint of the gutters, the woman who saw Christ’s face in the poor and dying. In these few words lies a truth deeper than oceans and higher than the stars—the truth that love, when pure and divine, knows no boundaries, no arithmetic of return. True love does not weigh its sacrifices or count its rewards. It does not ask, “What do I gain?” but only, “What can I give?” For intense love flows like a river from the soul—it does not calculate its worth; it simply moves, nourishing all it touches, and asking for nothing in return.

Mother Teresa knew the power of such love, for she lived it each day among the forgotten of the world. In the streets of Calcutta, she found those whom society had discarded—the lepers, the orphans, the dying. To them she gave not what was convenient, but what was absolute: her time, her touch, her tenderness. When asked how she endured the suffering around her, she replied, “We can do no great things—only small things with great love.” That was her secret: she did not measure her acts by size or success, but by the love poured into them. In this way, she transformed every gesture—a bandaged wound, a shared meal, a whispered prayer—into a sacred offering.

The origin of this quote arises from Mother Teresa’s profound understanding of divine charity. Trained as a nun and missionary, she believed that God’s love is infinite and unconditional, and that humans, being made in His image, must learn to mirror that same love toward one another. She often spoke against the human tendency to measure—whether it be wealth, worth, or affection. For to measure is to limit, and love, by its nature, cannot be contained. “Intense love,” she taught, “is not about perfection, but presence.” It is love that gives wholly, without thought of cost or recognition, because in giving itself, it finds its purpose fulfilled.

Consider the story of Maximilian Kolbe, the Polish priest imprisoned in Auschwitz. When a fellow prisoner—a husband and father—was condemned to die, Kolbe stepped forward and offered his own life in the man’s place. There was no reason, no measure, no calculation—only love in its purest form, self-giving unto death. He did not know the man; he simply saw a soul worth saving. This is the kind of love Mother Teresa spoke of: love that burns so fiercely that it consumes the self, that finds joy in the act of giving, even when there is nothing left to give.

To measure love is to reduce it to transaction. The world often teaches us to love in proportion—to give affection when it is deserved, to offer help when it benefits us, to forgive only when apology is made. But intense love transcends this logic. It loves because it must, because the heart that loves deeply cannot do otherwise. It is the love of a mother who wakes each night to comfort her child, of a friend who stands beside another in despair, of a stranger who risks their safety to save a life. Such love, though unseen by the world, is the true measure of greatness. It is the fire that refines the soul.

The lesson of this teaching is clear: if you wish to love truly, you must learn to give without counting. Do not let fear or pride dictate your generosity. Love not because it is safe, but because it is right. When you give, give fully—your time, your patience, your forgiveness. Do not measure what others return, for love that demands repayment ceases to be love and becomes barter. The greatest gift of all is the heart that gives freely and silently, for such love transforms both giver and receiver, drawing them closer to the divine.

So, my child of the compassionate heart, remember this: intense love does not measure—it just gives. Let your love be vast as the sky and steady as the earth. When others falter, love still; when others wound, love deeper. Give without expectation, serve without seeking praise, and forgive without limit. For it is through such love that we touch eternity. Every act of selfless giving, no matter how small, ripples outward, lighting the darkness of the world. And when your days are done, it will not be what you measured or gained that endures, but the love you gave—unmeasured, unending, divine.