beautiful moment #2: compassion

i just spoke silence to a seeker next to me.

she had a heart with hesitant, halting speech.

that turned to mine and asked beligerently, "what do i live for?"

Living in Newfoundland, it is unheard of to not spend at least one Friday night on the infamous George Street, the street with the most bars per capita in the whole world. Being only 17, I knew I couldn't go to the bars, but I decided to go down and experience the environment of downtown St. John's with some friends. As we were passing the stairs on George Street, I saw a lady stumbing down the steep stairway. Very instinctively, I left the group and approached the lady to see if she needed help getting down the stairs. When I approached her, she looked terrified. Her eyes widened and she shrunk away when I reached out to put my hand on her shoulder. She was maybe 30 years old, her hair disheveled, her make-up smudged, her overalls undone and dirty. She was very intoxicated and the scent of alcohol on her breath was enough to make me feel tipsy. Even in the dark, I could see track marks running up the length of her arms. It broke my heart to see such a beautiful young lady in such a state, discounting all her potential, drowning her dreams in a bottle and shooting her hopes up her veins. She continued staring at me for about a minute, as if she was waiting for me to do something to her or just turn around and walk away. But I wasn't going anywhere. I asked her again if I could help her down the stairs and she reached for my outstretched hand, squeezed it, turned her head and vomitted on the stair. She gave me a faint smile, likely surprised that I didn't leave her and she squeezed my hand again as if to discern whether or not I was really there. I put my arm around her and walked her slowly to the foot of the stairs and when we reached the bottom, she hugged me and grabbed my chin. She smiled and reached for my hair. "It's so long," she said. I nodded and she continued, saying, "You must be an angel. I know it. You are glowing." I told her I wasn't an angel but I did care about her. She began to tear up and said, "No one has ever cared about me before. No one has ever loved me before. If I had a friend like you 15 years ago, I wouldn't be here, drunk and working the streets. Thank you for caring about me." I gave her a big hug, brought her to shelter and bundled her up. I gave her a big hug, told her she was loved and set off to find my friends.

I didn't bother explaining where I disappeared to. Just taking five minutes to show compassion to a stranger that everyone passed by so easily meant so much to her that it is hard to express it words. Love takes courage, patience and understanding. Thanks to that lovely lady on George Street, I learned a lesson in compassion. When being called to care for the least of these, it is the least we can do.

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"I have found the paradox that if I love until it hurts, then there is no hurt, but only more love." - Mother Teresa