One of my daughter’s traits that I brag about is her sense of compassion. When she was little, she went to preschool with a severely delayed boy. Without prompting by us, or by her teachers, she would seek him out and invite him to play each day. She even offered him the coveted job of helping to pass out napkins on her birthday.
I can’t say my son shares her kind nature. He
will cry when he sees someone else upset, but we really can’t be sure if that’s because he feels sorry for them, or if they’re just irritating him.
But at his school, they are trying to help us lead him down a compassionate road. At least a couple of times a month, my son has been taking canned goods to school to donate to needy families.
At first, he didn’t understand why we were giving away perfectly good peanut butter, so I explained that we were providing food to help people who don’t have any.
Yesterday, I bought these Halloween lollipops to give to some neighborhood kids.
My son saw them and said, “After dinner, I want to have one of those!”
I replied, “No. Those aren’t for us.”
He nodded and said, “Oh! Are we going to give them to people who don’t have any fingers?”
Maybe he’s getting this whole compassion thing after all.
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