We had just gotten off the taxi at the front gate to the apartment complex. We always were out and about visiting and participating in many adventures with many of my family members. In July, I went with my father, mother and brother to Poland for five weeks. As I stepped out of the door, I noticed sitting outside the doors of a little store was a man in ripped jeans and a stained polo shirt. The sleeve on his right arm was half cut off and his skin looked dirty, like he hadn’t had a shower in months. His hair was grey and it looked like he hadn't shaved in a while because his grey beard was grown out all the way down to his chest. When people walked by him, they usually ignored him and acted like they didn’t notice him, but he was the first thing I noticed.
As I walked past him I had to hold my breath, but I didn't want to make that obvious to him. He smelled musty, like a mix of sweat, urine, and tobacco. I had to think of things that smelled good to prevent myself from gagging near him. Next to him on the ground was a half eaten box of cookies laying on a cut up blanket. On the other side of him was a can with some coins in it. He held a sign that looked like it was made out of a cardboard box. His sign said, “please help this homeless buying cookies, thanks.” It made no sense to me when I read it, partially due to the fact that it was written in Polish and my Polish reading skills aren’t too proficient. I couldn’t understand if he wanted people to buy the cookies he had, or if he wanted people to buy him cookies from the store. As we walked by him, he yelled, “pani” and pointed to his can.
When we stopped at the store, we all decided that we wanted to buy him something. Our translator told us to go around the store and gather foods that didn’t have to be cooked. Altogether we gave him: a can of peaches, a loaf of bread, some lunch meat and a couple bottles of water. After that night, he was known as our homeless friend from Poland that my brother and I named Pani.
The definition of compassion is the deep awareness of the suffering of another. In Barbara Ascher’s essay “On Compassion” she believes that we are not born with compassion. She believes you have to be taught compassion. She also says in her essay that we learn it through adversity. We learn about the suffering of others when we have to go through obstacles ourselves.
I agree with Barbara Ascher on where compassion comes from. People are not born with compassion, they have to be taught how to be compassionate through experiences in life they have gone through. They learn about the suffering of others when they actually have to go through an obstacle themselves, and how they feel and react in that given moment.
I became compassionate at the early age of while playing soccer My injury occurred. Doing what a typical Right mid-fielder would do, do a “corner run then cross”, I tore my Achilles tendon. What happened is that as I was planting my left foot to cross the ball, the opponent slide tackled me and my leg (ankle) went one way while my body another. Doctors believe that it was because of my weight and force being exerted in the wrong direction that caused the tear. I was then taken to the emergency room and placed under laproscopic surgery to repair my damaged tendon that was approx. 80% torn. I was immobilized completely for six weeks in a cast thereafter. Once it was taken off I slowly started the rehabilitation process. During this process I wasn't obedient as usual and thought I was indestructible and signed up for another football camp without parental or medical consent. While doing a drill my leg wasn't recovered and strong enough and a tore the tendon again. this time it wasn't severe as the first but i was required to go under immediate surgery and the whole process all over again because the tear was in the lower part of the tendon. This time I listened to a certain extent and recovered "fully". Just after being fully released to normal athletics and daily activities I was hit by a car. I was riding my bike at the time against traffic as I always do and a SUV drifted around the intersection (blew right thought the stop sign) and hit me. My whole ankle all the ligaments in and around it were distorted or broke. The cop clocked the vehicle 30 seconds before it hit me going 56 mph. in a 30 mph. zone. I'm Lucky I'm living and only have the injuries I have because i didn't even have a helmet on. Well, all the cuts and scrapes healed but my ankle did not. I went to several doctors looking for alternatives to stop this reoccur injury and finally Dr. Ritter came through. He reconstructed and realigned everything in my ankle and leg area, placed a disintegrating rod in me while I rebuild tissues around it and made sure everything is alright. I was blessed with the angels that presented themselves in my life and assisted and helped me throughout the whole process. Through their love and compassion I have become healed and am running and working out daily.
Additionally, from my experience in Poland, I learned about how to be compassionate. Buying food for our friend Pani, was one of a few moments I’ve encountered where I had the opportunity to show compassion for other people. I feel that I wasn’t born with this trait but that I learned it through experiences like this one.