~by Kent M. Keith
People are often unreasonable, illogical, and self-centered.
Forgive them anyway.
If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish ulterior motives.
Be kind anyway.
If you are successful, you will win some false friends and some true enemies.
Succeed anyway.
If you are honest and frank, people may cheat you.
Be honest and frank anyway.
What you spend years building, someone could destroy overnight.
Build anyway.
If you find serenity and happiness, they may be jealous.
Be happy anyway.
The good you do today, people will often forget tomorrow.
Do good anyway.
Give the world the best you have, and it may never be enough.
Give the best you've got anyway.
You see,in the final analysis it is between you and God ;
it was never between you and them anyway.
The poem commonly attributed to Mother Teresa is actually titled Anyway and was written by Kent M. Keith in 1968 as part of his work The Paradoxical Commandments. Although Mother Teresa displayed a version of the poem in a children’s home in Calcutta, she did not author it. This association led to widespread misattribution over time. Keith has publicly confirmed his authorship and expressed appreciation that the poem’s message was embraced and shared in humanitarian contexts.
The poem “Anyway” resonates with me because it strips life down to its quiet, stubborn truth: that meaning is not granted by recognition, fairness, or reward. It reminds me that doing good has never been about applause or protection from disappointment. People may misunderstand, doubt, or even undo what we try to build—but the poem insists that our responsibility is not to outcomes, only to integrity.
What moves me most is its insistence on inward accountability. “In the final analysis it is between you and God; it was never between you and them anyway.” That line reframes everything. It suggests that kindness, honesty, and effort are not transactions but commitments—acts of faith in who we are choosing to be, regardless of how the world responds. When I feel discouraged by ingratitude or disillusioned by broken systems, the poem reminds me that goodness does not lose its value simply because it goes unnoticed.
The poem also challenges my instinct to wait for ideal conditions before giving my best. It acknowledges that people may forget, take advantage, or tear down what took years to build—and still asks me to act. That courage feels radical. It asks for perseverance without guarantees, generosity without protection, and hope without proof.
Ultimately, “Anyway” feels like a quiet moral compass. It doesn’t promise that things will work out, only that choosing kindness, honesty, and effort still matters. And sometimes, that reminder—that meaning lives in the doing, not the outcome—is exactly what I need to keep going anyway.
Simona A. Brinson
Photo by Hyunwon Jang on Unsplash
My Life In Word 