Naked and Afraid and Survivor –two shows considered daring by most everyone, draw millions of curiosity seekers, viewers craving adventure from the safety of their sofas. Contestants participate for any number of reasons: money, a bit of fame and to challenge themselves, and some, out of desperation.

Other adrenaline junkies may choose a vacation experience in Belize, where without being a certified diver or having any snorkeling skills, one can swim with the sharks—no cage required.

How many pages must that waiver be? Maybe there is no waiver to sign.

There’s a different brand of daring and one that may take even more fortitude and sacrifice than no clothes and no toilet paper. Rather than the fabricated kind of bravery where folks choose to be exposed to dangerous situations for entertainment, this type is real, as real as it gets.

On December 25, 1985, the late Mother Teresa was the first to open an HIV/Aids Hospice in New York City against community opposition and fear. The facility, which she termed ‘a guest house’ had 14 beds. After petitioning the mayor and the governor, she won medical furloughs for three prison inmates dying from the disease to be included and cared for there.

Over and over, she dared to help, dared to ask for help, going where others would not. Starting with 11 women in Calcutta in 1950, today, over a quarter century after Mother Teresa’s death, Missionaries of Charity care for people with severe disabilities at 758 ‘houses’ in 139 countries, including 41 places in the United States!

For a multitude of reasons, few, besides the 5200 women currently serving as Missionaries of Charity, can be that daring. Applauding and donating may be all we can muster. But every day, there exist opportunities – small in comparison—but then again, we are all small next to Mother Teresa’s five feet. Can I apologize to someone I offended last week or years ago? Can I keep quiet when I itch to repeat gossip, or can I stop someone from sharing it in the first place? Can I choose not to compete, letting others go ahead? Can I visit a patient in the same hospital where I last saw my loved one? No one will be cheering or rating the entertainment value, but guts are required. I dare you myself to be daring.

Lilly Kauffman is a non-fiction writer who was privileged to work as both librarian and a teacher. Her essays, whether serious or humorous, capture the experiences that allow us to laugh and grieve. Family and faith inform her writings. She is currently working on several book projects: A Mother Grieves in Ink, Ampersand, and Lil Letters.