August 21, 2014
Learning True Compassion


I recall growing up that my parents were dirt poor! The situation was so bad, the only thing in the refrigerator was Cup-o'-Noodles and frozen French fries. We had to go to McDonalds across the street to get ketchup, salt and pepper - in those days you could just walk in and grab the stuff. I have four siblings and both of my parents had to work in order for us to survive. We would buy our clothes, shoes and toys at yard sales and our furniture was obtained from the trash.

Despite the modesty in which we lived, I never felt we were poor. I actually felt rich. My parents taught us how much we had in comparison to other families by having us clean out our closets and toy box of all the outgrown clothes and old toys. Then they took us to give those items to people who were much less fortunate than we were. My dad would take us to a neighborhood by the Mexican border where people literally lived in cardboard houses. We traditionally did this every January. While we were driving into those neighborhoods, my parents would point out how these families must be so cold living in these cardboard houses and how much the sweaters that we were taking the children would keep them warm.

We always saw barefoot children there; and my parents would point out to us how the parents of these children did not have money to buy them shoes - not even from yard sales. I remember my mother helping me search for a barefoot child who looked my size so I could give that child my bag of clothes and toys. The reaction I got left a life lasting impression engraved in me.

I couldn't give to all the children and this always left me with the feeling of wanting to go back and give to another child. My motivation was the joyous reaction of these families. I learned to recognize the expressions of joy and I found those expressions more rewarding and satisfying than anything material could ever bring. This act of giving made me feel richer than a millionaire. My family did this from the time I was 5 until I was 12. This act of kindness taught me the meaning of gratitude. It taught me to appreciate what I have because there is always somebody who has much less. It taught me how satisfying giving could be. It taught me consciousness and consideration for others. It taught me true compassion.

Jaharya

Posted by Staff at 10:59 AM