My Catholic faith has taught me more than any teacher, parent, or person ever has! Aside from the obvious “good morals,” Catholicism has taught me the value of family and friendship. It has taught me humility. More than anything, it has taught me how to love and how to be loved by following in Christ’s footsteps to become a more compassionate person.
Being compassionate isn’t easy. In fact, if I’m being perfectly honest, it sucks.
I consider myself extremely empathetic, meaning I am very sensitive to the emotions of people around me. The emotions of people around me weigh heavily on me and will even influence my own emotions. It is a genuine extension of compassion that goes beyond “oh, that’s good” and “man, that must be hard.”
For example, last week I was stopped by a train for a couple of minutes. The woman in the car behind me was crying. Like, chest heaving, ugly crying, inaudible sobs. And it broke my heart. I wanted to go to her and tell her that whatever it was, whatever she was going through, she would be okay.
So I did.
And it was awful.
Because with at least another 50 train cars to go, I put my car in park, got out, walked over to her door, and tapped on her window. When she rolled her window down, all I said was, “I’m sorry. You don’t know me, but I know that you’ll be okay.” She hiccupped, still crying, and nodded, not saying anything. Then I just got back in my car and cried.
Did I cry because I hoped she would be okay? I wish, but no. I cried because that was really hard.
As someone with anxiety, it’s a constant battle between my existential guilt and the gift of compassion. Perhaps you don’t have any experience with constant anxiety. Maybe you think it’s silly to feel guilty and wrong for doing the most mundane things. I agree with you, it is silly, but that doesn’t make it go away.
In fact, as soon as I parked my car, I already had a million thoughts going through my mind:
What would I even say to her? Everyone probably thinks that I’m one of those jerks that park in the middle of traffic. Or they think there’s something wrong with my car. Or they think I’m crazy. What if SHE thinks I’m crazy? I shouldn’t get out. Everyone will look at me and hate me. Maybe I can just pretend that I dropped something out of my window and get back in the car. This is a bad idea.
And I hadn’t even gotten out of the car yet.
Still, I think that this situation was most definitely a gift from God. It’s not that God made sure that she had a reason to cry, but I do think He put her car behind mine for a reason. I, myself, have experienced both the sinking feeling and being tossed life rafts in the form of smiles, hugs, slight head nods, words, and prayers, and MAN is it powerful.
Unlike Rose in The Titanic (spoiler), we can share our floating door and save Jack’s life. Even when we are in danger of drowning, God gives us the opportunity to reach a hand out to a stranger.
All it takes is an Act of Random Kindness, an ARK if you will, to keep us from sinking.
Veronica Alvarado is a born and raised Texan currently living in Michigan. Since graduating from Texas A&M University, Veronica has published various articles in the Catholic Diocese of Austin’s official newspaper, the Catholic Spirit, and other local publications. She now works as the Content Specialist in Diocesan’s Web Department.
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