What gives me the right to be sad at a funeral for someone I don’t know? She asked.
Compassion, I said.
Looking back I can see compassion as the heartfelt feeling of one person for another.
It is a soul shouldering a burden.
It is an arm around a back.
It is an unexpected whisper.
It is beautiful.
A father sees his daughter frustrated by shoelaces and bends his knee to help.
A stranger stops at 2 A.M. to help a stalled car.
A savior interrupts the funeral for an only child, and raises a mother’s dead.
And sometimes we are shoe-lace soft enough to receive help,
And if not then maybe that’s what stalled cars and dead children are for:
To remind us, not that this world is
But to remind us that we are.
That we are in need of bent knees and stopped help.
That we need a kind hand to touch our coffins to raise our dead to renew our faith.
And so have we been shown,
Let us show