Compassion

Yesterday our class at church was discussing compassion and how to teach kindness to children. Of course it takes many lessons for us to become compassionate people, but this example from my childhood is one of my favorite memories.



My mom truly enjoyed doing good deeds for others. Frequently I tagged along on one of her many good works. One day when I was about seven years old I went with mom to visit the patients at Rancho Los Amigos Hospital, a large rehabilitation facility. I didn't like the big wards full of sick people. The ward that scared me most was the one that was full of patients in iron lungs. I couldn’t imagine how anyone could live in one of those big, scary tubes. Mom had given me a Hershey’s chocolate bar as a reward for behaving while she went to see people. I was carrying my candy bar as we walked down the long porch of the hospital. Patients in rocking chairs lined the porch. One of them saw my candy bat and said he sure did love Hershey's Bars. He sure wished he could have some chocolate. My generous mom gave me “the look,” and I knew what I had to do. I gave the old man my candy and walked on with a dejected face. I really had not wanted to give it away. When mom was finished with her visit we walked back out along the porch full of patients. A little lady tapped me on the shoulder. She said she had seen me give away my candy and wanted to thank me for my generosity. To reward my generous act she gave me a whole, unopened Whitman's Sampler. A big box of chocolates just for one candy bar. I looked at it in awe. Being the good church kid that I was I looked at my mom and said, “I have cast my bread upon the waters and it has returned unto me.”