Free The Children executive director keynote speaker at hospital's clinical day

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What struck brothers Marc and Craig Kielburger most about Mother Teresa upon their chance meeting with the late, acclaimed humanitarian, recalled eldest sibling Marc, was her incredibly small stature.

"What we thought was the coolest was that she was this tall," Kielburger said, motioning with his hand about 4'7 inches. "She was so short, but so powerful. Not because she had a big bank account, but because she had a big heart. She grabbed our hands - she had hands like sand paper - and said, 'Remember, we can do no great things, but we can do small things with great love.'"

Mother Theresa's words resonated with the boys, at the time barely teenagers and not overly tall themselves, said Kielburger.

Now 29 and chief executive director of Free The Children, the development organization founded by his brother that has built more than 500 schools in marginalized regions worldwide and educates 50,000 kids daily, he was the keynote speaker at St. Joseph's Health Centre's 53rd Annual Clinical Day, Nov. 14.

The co-author of the New York Times best seller Me to We: Finding Meaning in a Material World spoke about living a healthier life through social involvement, volunteerism and service to others.

He credits his parents for providing them with what he called one of the greatest teaching tools- the newspaper. He and Craig were told to read at least one news article a day. That's how Craig in April, 1995 at 12 years of age, stumbled upon a story about the murder of a child labourer-turned-child rights activist, Iqbal Masih, of Pakistan. Prior to his death, Masih was sold into slavery to work in a carpet factory. It was Masih's plight that inspired Craig to establish Free The Children to help free children from poverty, exploitation and powerlessness. What was once a small group of classmates soon gained international attention.

"Young people can make a difference," Kielburger said.

Inspiring young people, the next generation, to care is part of what Free the Children does, Kielburger told his audience at the hospital. His own initial inspiration can be traced back to "the greatest, greatest job," he had as a parliamentary page in the House of Commons when he was 17.

"They actually, technically run the government," Kielburger deadpanned. "They get MPs water. Somebody has to make sure their voice doesn't get hoarse. I spilled a half a glass of water on Jean Chr�©tien."

One day, an MP called him over and asked him an important question, one Kielburger said we don't ask ourselves enough: "What kind of legacy would you like to leave?"

Thrown off guard, Kielburger didn't have an answer.

"I don't know," he replied.

The MP told him that he sat on the board of directors of an organization that worked in the slums of Thailand.

"I think you should leave your job and go to Thailand," he told Kielburger.

At first, Kielburger resisted.

"Twenty-eight percent of pages were girls. I thought, 'I have great odds here,'" he joked. "He always asked me the 'L' question. Finally, I said, 'fine, I'll go.'"

When Kielburger arrived in the slums of Thailand, the volunteer coordinator told him to report to the AIDS ward.

"She said, 'Thanks, Marc. You're a doctor, right?' I said, 'no.' I'm a budding political scientist.'"

"You understand basic medicine?"

"I watch ER every Thursday night, I replied.'"

His stint in the AIDS ward, in charge of 24 AIDS patients was too much for the teen to handle.

"I was so emotional, distraught, so upset. I was mad. Mad at AIDS, mad at the world. Thank-you for all your work. People die here every day. I can't do what you do every day. Thank-you," Kielburger told the doctors who had come to Clinical Day at St. Joe's.

He walked out of the AIDS ward and called his mom. She got him on a flight the next day. When he was packing his bags, this little boy asked him what he was doing. The boy told him that he was so poor that he didn't own shoes, didn't know who his parents were or when his birthday was, but all the street kids come together and have one big birthday party every year.

"You've gotta be there,'" he said. "It's in two days."

So, Kielburger called his mother who rescheduled his flight so he could go to the party. �"It was full of so much love, so much passion, so much fun," Kielburger said.

He saw how these kids had to make money in the most horrible ways.

"I changed my flight over and over again. Every single day, I'd get my butt out of bed and play soccer with these kids. I went back to the AIDS ward. I saw people die. When I came back to Canada, I was angry," Kielburger said. "I learned more about compassion, about globalization from a bunch of kids in Thailand, who didn't have shoes, than I did from any professor at Harvard."

Free The Children takes 1,000 kids, between the ages of 16 and 18, overseas each summer in groups of 25 to help build schools. It's a humbling experience for them, Kielburger said.

Clinical Day is held every year as an educational event and brings together clinicians and staff from St. Joseph's and its community. It is comprised of a motivational keynote speaker and a number of in-house presentations dealing with current and new health issues, according to Helen Zulys, director of medical affairs.

"This year, we're bringing forward some of the work we've done in the health centre," she told The Villager.

Zulys agreed that Kielburger's words were inspirational.

"As he said, as a parent, it's important to lead by example," Zulys, who took her two boys, now grown, to volunteer at the Daily Bread Food Bank."