On Compassion

 ”Compassion is the basis of morality.”
- Arthur Schopenhauer

About a week ago, our local paper ran a story about a 33-year-old woman who had just given birth to premature triplets, and was jobless, in debt, and living in a shelter. She was trained as a medical transcriptionist, and had worked, but  lost her job and her home before going into the hospital for a period of bed rest followed by the birth of her babies. Medicaid had paid for the hospital stay and the early care of the triplets, but there was clearly no family support (her own mother lives in the shelter with her and her children), and no support from the father of the triplets. It was the policy of the shelter to limit occupants to relatively brief stays, other area shelters were full, and it was unclear where the woman and her babies would go when their time at the shelter ran out.

My heart went out to this woman for a number of reasons. Aside from the fact that we are both woman, mothers, and human beings, her situation created a painful “there, but for the grace of God go I” moment for me.  At 34, I was also pregnant and unmarried, and ordered into the hospital for 7 weeks of bed rest.  This resulted in the loss of all of my ongoing legal cases because I was a solo practitioner and could not meet with clients or attend hearings from my hospital bed. The difference was that I was supported with great love by my parents, by the rest of my family, by my (now) husband, and by a network of friends and colleagues. I lost some time, I lost a job, I lost a lot of income, but I felt completely safe. I knew I had a place to go after my son was born, I knew I was going to be married as soon as I was allowed to stand up and get dressed, and I was constantly aware of a huge safety net that kept me from falling too far even though I had made a mistake. I felt compassion, rather than judgment, from everyone around me. I was well-educated, I had money in the bank, I had a “nice” family, and the father of my child was in and out of the hospital at least twice a day.

This woman had no safety net, and was on the edge of living on the streets because she made a decision, as I did, to bring an unplanned pregnancy to term because it felt like the right choice. Making that choice brought me a beautiful child, a hastening of the marriage that had already been planned, and the beginning of the best part of my life. It brought this woman, my doppleganger, poverty, anxiety, judgment and a complete lack of security at a time when all new mothers are overwhelmed and exhausted even if they have only one infant.

As one would expect, because of the story in the newspaper there was an outpouring of support. Money, baby clothes, and rent-free living situations are flowing freely at the moment, and it is my prayer that this will be enough to see the woman through a difficult time, and to get back on her feet.

There is also the response that I knew would be forthcoming; a response that is compassion-less, judgmental, vindictive and based on fear and stereotypes. To whit (from the newspaper): “[t]hose poor kids should be put up for adoption. Mommy has had sex with a stranger, is homeless. She has no clue how to raise kids let alone take care of herself.”

I am going to take a (metaphorical) deep breath, and thank God for my own great good fortune. Then I am going to remind myself, and anyone reading this, that we are all in this “life” thing together. I admit that it is hard to feel great sympathy for child predators, axe murderers, and certain other (arguably) evil types. In this instance, however, we are talking about a woman who made a mistake that many (including me) have made before her. She has been amply punished for that mistake, and as humans we have an obligation not to judge but to feel and express compassion towards her and her three babies and to help them move forward into a life with more security and greater potential.

Maybe this woman will make other mistakes. Maybe she won’t be Mother of the Year. Maybe she’ll do something(s) that you or I would find immoral, unpleasant or sinful. On the other hand, maybe she’ll love her children, raise them as well as she can, and try to do a little better every day.

We can’t know her future any more than we know our own, and we should not judge her dispassionately based on her past. We should wish her well, feel joy that her children are alive and healthy, extend a helping hand and treat her with compassion because she is one of us. Regardless of our own religious, political or ethical beliefs, we can’t be anything but human and flawed; we would all do well to remember that rather than trying to set ourselves apart as superior beings. There is only one of those, and I’m pretty sure He would expect us to treat her with compassion, too.