2004-07-25
Compassion
I was overwhelmed with immense compassion as the raindrops fell onto this dry earth like soft teardrops. Thunder rumbled overhead like some faint warning. Black and white--cars roll by, muddy puddles, and the world continues with mute indifference.
An old man came up to my mother. His face scoured and weather-beaten. Hands wrinkly, eyes hiding tranquil pain. A miserable ragamuffin in worn-out garments. Desperate and desolate. He spoke pleadingly as we listened.
�Maam, do you have any money you could spare?� He spoke in Spanish. From this, I concluded that he was most likely an immigrant that had come to this country in search of something...better.
My mother looks at him hesitantly, not knowing what action to take in this glass world of deceit where one cannot trust anymore. She looked at me before she spoke, �Sir, I have no money. I don�t make it my habit to carry around cash with me.�
He smiled feebly and bowed his head slightly, �Ok, thank-you for listening, maam�
The car quietly rolled through the pavement for about ten minutes before we turned back. She looked at her rear-view mirror and decided to turn back and give that man money. Whilst he was quietly sitting down by the side of the parking lot with rain pouring down on him, we called out.
He was an elderly man--alone in this country--who can barely speak English and is perhaps too old to learn. He lives by himself in this small and ruddy place, consumed by darkness, hunger, and deep melancholy upon returning each night. In three days he hadn�t eaten--my heart shattered and I fought back tears.
Sobbing last night, I whispered �Why� to myself. So tell me, why?
Why has this man not eaten in three days?
Why are there millions of others out there in his position?
Why do we live under an administration that doesn�t care about this man or other like him?
Why do I get angry when my cappuccino takes �too long�, when there are those who cannot even eat?
And I have never come so close to such compassion as I did last night, sobbing against my pillow. My heart gave wild palpations and I forgot about my own trivial problems.
Compassion--better than �love�, better than our own pretentiousness and forged nobleness.