Tag Archives: kindness

Love Lessons

10 Mar

it's a...MAY YOUR SOUL STIR Monday! A

He was skittish and detached. A stand in the doorway, a hint of departure, a trivial unaccustomed noise; all invoked violent fits of barking.

As my daughter returned for a temporary stay, he was welcomed as well. Dogs are special creatures, this one no different, with personality and feelings and fears. Not unlike that of humans, his haunts of a past life, characterized his manners.

He was a rescue dog, in every sense of the word. In a congested parking lot, soaked from the rain and soiled from his own feces, he was saved. Blessed with a new life, he still suffered old wounds. He needed time and he needed love.

Eventually he warmed up, coming next to me for closeness. The barking fits, diminished. The wary, reduced.

He’s taught me a lot about myself, about my daughter, and about others. But the thing I’ve learned most…if we all received the offerings of love, patience, and compassion shown this animal; we could heal too.

 

Little Boy Borrowed

24 Feb

it's a...MAY YOUR SOUL STIR Monday! F

He was restless and bored, rapidly getting into mischief. A toothbrush here, a pair of socks there; all toys to a little boy displaced by a tornado.

In a Red Cross shelter, others were restless and bored too, but this boy needed attention…and a diversion. As a volunteer I felt it my obligation to provide just that.

With a well-chosen puzzle, I gathered him for some fun. Sitting on the floor with a coffee table as our headquarters, we undertook the mission. Between mini bouts of frustration, and mini stints of celebration, we completed the challenge.

But that wasn’t enough. He needed more and so did I. A ping-pong paddle and a giant ping-pong ball became our next contest. Working with him ever so patiently, I taught him how to push the ball towards me from different positions. This new game kept our devotion for a long while; with the exception of a moment.

The moment I looked up to see tears lingering in his mother’s eyes. She was sitting quietly by, watching as her son interacted in play. In response to my inquiry, her answer “He’s autistic. He goes to a therapist, but he’s done more in these few minutes then he has in all those months.”

As we walked away, she uttered few words of appreciation. Crying while expressing because he’s different, he is often ignored or ridiculed, and the kindness was priceless.

Later that night, I cried too.

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