Compassion

It’s a week since the Boston Marathon bombings. We feel for those killed and injured and we hurt for their families and friends.

There were outpourings of grief, anger and compassion. We all grieved for the sufferers.  Anger, understandable in such circumstances, drove too many to direct their wrath towards perceived enemies before the facts were known.

The compassionate did not stop at grieving. They did not let their feelings of revulsion at the bombings hold them back. They stepped up and helped where there was a need. They were the first-responders and ordinary citizens running to the injured and frightened while others were running from. The compassionate exhibited courage.

The compassionate also wait for facts to become known; they see the perpetrators and not their religion nor their ethnicity.  They show empathy.  The compassionate did not take to news feeds in droves to write the vilest comments about killing and bombing who they perceived to be enemies. I stopped reading comments on various posts as I could no longer stomach the lunacy some of us thought was a good thing to commit to the internet for posterity. 

The compassionate reflect on the history of targeting groups and the bile unleashed that could not be undone. They, although concerned for the suffering of their fellow country persons, remember that daily, in other parts of the world such as Syria, bomb blasts are a way of life and their compassion extends to all.

We would do well to be less angry and to embody the meaning of compassion.

Will keep you posted.

Dressed Alike

"Sisters"

We had stopped at a favourite restaurant, Fisherman’s Pub in Speightstown, Barbados for a bite. About to head to our tables, I heard someone say, “I had to come over and say hi to my sister.”  Looking around, I came face to face with a woman dressed exactly like me, down to the style of our sandals.

We know showing up at the same event and meeting a mirror image is something women dread but who could feel horrible on a beautiful vacation day, in a restaurant on the beach with family and friends, looking forward to enjoying lunch? 

My “sister” and I introduced ourselves and realized we were on vacation from the same country and lived in neighbouring cities. We found the hilarity in our situation and had a good laugh, captured by one of my daughters (I am on the left).

The next night, family and friends met in Oistins for the fish fry, dancing under the stars and karaoke. Who should we run into but my “sister” from the previous day but this night, we were not dressed like twin daughters of a doting mother.

Will keep you posted.