A Lesson About Compassion
I recently learned something disconcerting about myself.
Regular readers may recall my entry "This Is For The Birds" in which I mourned three bird eggs that had been knocked to the ground when a severe storm destroyed their next. I had compassion for their death, but there was nothing I could do.
Last week, when I was out moving sprinklers in my yard (see "Time to Move The Sprinklers") I was horrified to see three too-young baby birds on the ground. They couldn't fly and one couldn't even hop; as I approached, they opened their mouths in hope of some needed sustenance. Again, I had compassion, but was frozen in a state of inaction. A myriad of thoughts rushed through my mind:
By the next day, the weakest of the three wasn't looking too good and he later died. Would I likewise be witness to his siblings' demise?
On the third day, one of them was clinging to the side of a tree and later he was gone. I never saw him again and confidently assume he was able to fly away.
On the fourth day, the remaining bird was hopping with a bit more vigor and was for the first time was instinctively flapping his wings. An hour later, he too was gone.
I should be happy that two out of three made it, but I wonder if I should have tried to help their weaker brother.
What I do know is that compassion without action is worthless.
Regular readers may recall my entry "This Is For The Birds" in which I mourned three bird eggs that had been knocked to the ground when a severe storm destroyed their next. I had compassion for their death, but there was nothing I could do.
Last week, when I was out moving sprinklers in my yard (see "Time to Move The Sprinklers") I was horrified to see three too-young baby birds on the ground. They couldn't fly and one couldn't even hop; as I approached, they opened their mouths in hope of some needed sustenance. Again, I had compassion, but was frozen in a state of inaction. A myriad of thoughts rushed through my mind:
- I don't know what to do.
- They're going to die anyway.
- I'm too busy.
- What if they carry disease?
- I should let nature take its course.
By the next day, the weakest of the three wasn't looking too good and he later died. Would I likewise be witness to his siblings' demise?
On the third day, one of them was clinging to the side of a tree and later he was gone. I never saw him again and confidently assume he was able to fly away.
On the fourth day, the remaining bird was hopping with a bit more vigor and was for the first time was instinctively flapping his wings. An hour later, he too was gone.
I should be happy that two out of three made it, but I wonder if I should have tried to help their weaker brother.
What I do know is that compassion without action is worthless.
Posted by Peter DeHaan at 8/29/2008 7:21 PM 
Categories: Observation, nature, Lawn, Serious
Tags: compassion Peter DeHaan blog author Peter DeHaan Peter DeHaan Musings Musings of Peter DeHaan
Categories: Observation, nature, Lawn, Serious
Tags: compassion Peter DeHaan blog author Peter DeHaan Peter DeHaan Musings Musings of Peter DeHaan
I really liked your last statement. I have written it down. Hopefully I can use it someday.
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