When Does Kindness Count?
Do acts of compassion have to be infrequent in order to be meaningful?
Many years ago, when I was in my first marriage, I nursed my then-wife through an illness. It wasn’t difficult to do: just checking in on her regularly, making sure she was hydrated, comfortable, taking her medications on time, and was supplied with snacks she could digest. The illness lasted only a few days and I was happy to tend to her. Toward the end of this time, one of her friends dropped by for a visit and was surprised by how attentive I was.
“Wow,” the friend said, “you’re so lucky to have someone looking after you so good!”
“Oh, it doesn’t count,” my then-wife replied. “He’d do it for anyone.”
This struck me with some force. “It doesn’t count; because he’d do it for anyone.”
It’s true that my life has often been spent looking after other people in a wide variety of ways, helping out where possible, and occasionally putting myself in jeopardy in order to protect others. My ex-wife and my daughter frequently mocked me for my “savior complex” and both still probably regard me as something of an idiot due to my seeming compulsion to lend a hand instead of turning away from those in need.
