Compassion Fashion



As I logged on to Facebook this week as I often do. Okay, I always do. Okay, got me again. I never actually log off so I, at all times, can be found with a "logged in" light next to my name. None the less, I came across a story. A horrific story that I will only give the very topical details on, as it has been devastating for me to read further into and I hope to spare you these details.

A father forgot his beloved child in his car on a hot day and the 22 month old child died.

 

I do not bring this to your attention to rain down furry on this father. Or to bring to mind the act of putting your purse or brief case next to a small child when placing him in the back seat of your car; particularly if you are, generally, not in charge of day care drop off. I am bringing this story up because of the comments this tragic, happens-entirely-too-often story conjured. "Burn in Hell!" One woman wrote. "This man obviously didn't love his child to do this." Another Facebook 'Non-Friend' wrote. "Put him in an oven and give him a taste of his own medicine." Angrily typed, I'm sure.

The tears I had for this child and the angst for the mother and father who lost their precious bundle was quickly shadowed by anger. I was angry. Protective, even. How could we be so cruel? Where in the world is the compassion? Can none of us place ourselves in the shoes of this man for even a moment to imagine the turmoil he must feel. Dieing couldn't even ease his pain. The hole I felt in my heart even imagining losing one of my children doesn't come close to the crator left from a hot day, a rushed morning and a forgetful father. His screaming and thrashing with "What have I done!" will quickly be forgotten by on lookers. The friends of Facebook will go on with their days and some wont put another thought to their post. This man will never stop thinking about that day, that moment...

I was reminded of a sad truth. Compassion is often forgotten. Particularly on social media. We don't have to place ourselves in others shoes. Heck, we don't even have to see their shoes! We sit in the comforts of our homes with opinions as plentiful as pennies in my couch cushions (there are a lot of pennies in my couch cushions.) We don't think twice. Heck, most of us don't even think once. We fly off the handle. We spew our anger. We don't wait to process our own feeling to understand how to work through them. We are angry at what happened, at the injustice, at the thought of this happening to us. And the louder we scream, "I WOULD NEVER DO SOMETHING SO STUPID!" We feel we, somehow, we push the possibility of it ever happening to us farther away. Unfortunately, this is not how it works. We are all capable of mistakes. Horrible, terrible, I wish I could turn back time mistakes. Some of us will never, thankfully, have to account for this capability and others will stand together wishing for a time machine.

People, we are all in this together. No one gets out unscathed, less broken hearted, or safe and sound. We all hurt. We all cry. And most of us feel, at least once, that life wont go on. The severity for some will be different, but to us it's pain, plain and simple. The more we can extend compassion to others the more fulfilling our lives will actually be. Compassion is not understanding what someone has gone through. It isn't even agreeing with what happened. It is saying, my heart hurts for you I desire to help you even if I can't and I too wish we had a time machine to go back and right a wrong.

My prayer is we will be able to find empathy without the pain of sympathy. My desire is for even one of us to extend a hand to help, an arm to embrace and our heart to fill someone with a ounce of the love they have lost. Compassion should be our fashion.