Compassion, the love of others, is an undervalued notion. To put yourself in another's moccasins and walk a mile is to understand we all harbor different beliefs, varied perspectives, and, on occasion, completely opposing views.
My mother did a great job in teaching us to judge not lest we be judged. She was right. We all have the right to our own opinions. As a member of a democratic society, we all have a right to be heard.
Yesterday, I learned that lesson all over again. This time it wasn't my mother who imparted her nugget of wisdom. It was my daughter.
The sky, in its cobalt blue allure, drew us outside to the snow-covered hill next to the school. Four mothers and eight children braved the whipping winds to frolick once more in the powdery whiteness. In our "if you can't beat 'em, join 'em" attitude, we realized we can't control the weather, but we can control our attitudes about it.
As the children sledded down the hillside, an occasional spill brought a child or two to tears. My kids remained relatively quiet.
"I'm so lucky to have such well-mannered children," I thought snootily, watching the other kids whine and carry on.
One of my daughter's best friends fell face first into the snow after her brother rammed into her with his sled. Sophia lovingly fed her friend food from her own snack box. She tended to her friend's hurt ego. Again, I beamed.
"I just love my friends," Sophia confided in me as we took a quick bathroom break in the adjacent building. She skipped back to her buddies in great cheer. Moments later, I heard her cursing and crying. She had taken a fall down the snowy hill while her friends laughed at the top. More curses were traded between the girls.
One of the children's mothers demanded her laughing daughter come down to her sobbing friend (Sophia) and tell her side of the story.
Sophia started by saying she felt hurt that they were laughing at her. She didn't like it so that's why she called them $%§%§$&$%/%&/!!!
"How am I supposed to know how you are feeling?" Sophia's friend demanded.
I stopped cold in my tracks. "How am I supposed to know how you are feeling..." Compassion would tell you.
Sophia looked at her and said, "Because I just told you." Wiping away her tears, the girl's mother thanked them both for telling their side of the story. They went off to play harmoniously once again.
Standing tight-lipped in the chilling wind, we marveled at our daughters' ability to immediately forgive and forget. We could learn a thing or two from them.