This is the season of joy, peace and love, but I would like to introduce another emotion, which could also encompass joy, peace and love. Portia, one of the characters in William Shakespeare’s play, The Merchant of Venice, stated that mercy “blesseth him that gives and him that takes.” Compassion is like the quality of mercy, but with a different motivation. Compassion is described as “a feeling of deep sympathy and sorrow for another stricken by misfortune, accompanied by a strong desire to alleviate the suffering.”

A little over a year ago, a woman to be known henceforth as “Ms. Independence,” thought that she could continue to handle every curve ball that “life” threw her way. Even her own mother called her “Ms. Independence,” because she was always helping others, but never wanted to accept help from others. She was always “fine,” even if a building was about to collapse on her. Then, in the last five years or so, she watched her mother die from cancer. She lost her job. She lost her home.  She spent what little savings she had left, trying to survive. A friend, Jean N., took her in after hearing about her new lodgings at “Vanagon Lane.”

She found another job with a “Fortune 500” Company. She was grateful. She soon found out why this Fortune 500 company had such a high turnover.  It turned out to be little more than a glorified sweat shop, albeit with “insurance and other employee benefits.” She thought that the job was about “providing excellent customer service.”  She found out that “excellent” was in the glossy public relations manifesto, but was threatened by the reality of the back room operations. Ms. Independence did not know how vulnerable she was in trying to fulfill two diametrically opposed goals, until one day when one of the “overseers” yelled at workers to wrap up calls being taken. Ms. Independence’s poor ticker felt as if it actually tore about an inch from the walls of her chest. She began to jump at every sound. She knew it was time to leave. She left. She also left the friend’s house as one of the adult children of the friend, was moving back in. He was in fear for his employment.

At first it was paying for motel rooms, in between other arrangements. Then friends took her in at a motel, where she slept on a chair for about six months, while she kept searching for new employment. She did not qualify for unemployment, because she left the job. It did not leave her, except possibly ill. Her body went on strike from the abuse that was being heaped on it, beginning with that stay at the Fortune 500 company. She ended up in the hospital with three diseases, including sepsis.

Ms. Independence was gone from her laptop for nine days, which was unusual. Friends, especially those online, were frantically making calls to track her down, including calling her church.  She was stricken with hopelessness and homelessness. When she was finally able to reconnect with her online friends, she found out that a rescue mission had begun. Her mailing address was shared and the checks began pouring in. She was humbled and astonished, at the same time. Americans have been given the moniker of “ugly American.” Yet, many of these same Americans,, many of whom were online friends, had never even seen Ms. Independence in person, opened their hearts and wallets. They could have decided that compassion was too far a step – mere sympathy would do just as well – and would not cost anything.

Two friends especially, went beyond generosity. Jake R. who hides his generous heart under an exterior of gruff, plain speaking, “advised” Ms. Independence, “when I get paid, you get paid.” For well over six month, Ms. Independence got paid, every two weeks, anywhere from forty five to sixty five dollars.  Fred S., teacher by day, unpaid mover by night, moved Ms. Independence four times, including from the last place that was supposed to be a temporary refuge, and which developed quite nightmarish elements, with electricity being turned off up to six times daily. The electricity was part of the utilities, included in the monthly rent. Fred never asked for payment, not even for gas. In addition to their compassion for Ms. Independence, Jake, Fred, and many of the others who showed compassion to Ms. Independence, share one other thing in common. They are Christians. Although these two friends were singled out, because of the nature of their ongoing commitment, the totality of assistance received, can accurately be described as “inter-racial, inter-denominational, and somewhat multi-national.” 

So who is Ms. Independence? Your guess is correct. I am.  I can say with complete certainty, that nowhere else in this world, would compassion have taken up residence in my life, for as long as I needed it, but here in the good old USA. Those who hate Americans, love to throw around that moniker “ugly American.” I have yet to find one. I am not saying that there aren’t any. However, if they were that prevalent, I would have encountered my fair share. The folks who have been generous to me are not “movers and shakers.” They are ordinary Americans, including some who served in the Military. They are quality folks, and not just because they helped me from falling into a ditch. They love this country, and they have unbelievably generous hearts.

On Thanksgiving Day, radio host Dennis Prager invited naturalized Americans to call into his show and share why they are grateful to be in America. I called in and we had the following conversation:

I told him that I was born in St. Kitts, but as I say, "I was not born in America but I was born to be an American." He loved that one. I shared with him how I grew up with my adopted mother, who had an American Flag flying in the living room in St. Kitts, and then received my education in American history, when I went to live with my biological mother in the US Virgin Islands.

I told him that the main reason I am in the US is because of the people. I also told him that I am going to go on a cross country tour in search of the "ugly American" because so far, I have not found one. He suggested that I write a book about "The Beautiful American." I told him that a book was in the works, but first for this Christmas, I will be blogging on the topic of "Compassion," profiling a woman called "Ms. Independence." He said that he looked forward to reading the article.

Throughout the show, I heard other immigrants of the type that the US needs to keep attracting. They ranged from across the globe, but the unifying emotion was gratitude to be in the US, and how they can help to preserve the US to which they immigrated, and now owe allegiance. I emigrated from a free country. Some of them immigrated to escape tyranny. I pray to God, that through complacency, we do not let this country change from the fundamentals that have made it great. If we do not work to preserve it, there is no alternative in the world. Those who think that they will rejoice at its demise, will be confronted by a dose of financial reality.

My late mom used to tell me that I had done so much for others, that one day that generosity would be returned. It was – tenfold. It was returned in such measure that one of my friends, Joyce R, began to call me God’s pet. Those blessings happened when I learned to say “yes” to those who had “a strong desire to alleviate the suffering,” I went through. I no longer hide in a cloak of “independence.” It was not easy, but I learned that part of being “your brother’s keeper,” is that when you need to be kept, you allow your brother to keep you.

P.S. although I will never be described as being in the “1%” in terms of wealth, I am doing all right, and most importantly, my spirit has not been broken. I am in the special class of those who are enveloped by love and caring. Nothing else compares. I have also learned another very valuable lesson. Immunity from pain and suffering is not guaranteed to any of us. But, it is how we handle that suffering, that is important.

Honestly, I have not been an impeccable example of “grace under pressure.” Thoughts of suicide fleeted across my mind, on at least two occasions. I banished them for two reasons. The number one reason is my certainty that God gave me life, and it would be a dishonor to Him, to take away from Him, the rest of His plan for my life. Additionally, I could not put my family and friends through the misery of wondering why didn’t she come to us, what more could we have done, and all of the other anguished questions that come up in these situations.

Since writing this article, I have found that I have a major health challenge, but I am facing it with grace and equanimity. How could I not, when I have a circle of family and friends praying for me, and surrounding me with love? To be continued…..

Thank you, compassionate ones – family, friends, and my church family. God bless you, and God bless America, land that I do love – because of its people.

 Merry Christmas from Ms. Christmas!