�Who Says You Can�t Teach an Old Dog a New Trick or Two�

Lesson 7

Reflections on life based upon the book “God Never Blinks” 50 Lessons for Life’s Little Detours by Regina Brett

Cry with Someone. It’s More Healing than Crying Alone.

Here Regina reflects back on her childhood and how the people that held back their tears were praised as strong, heroic and almost saintly and how those that shed a tear were perceived as overly sensitive and emotionally weak. She closes with, “We need to stop hiding our tears and actually share them. It takes a strong person to cry. It takes a stronger person to let others see those tears. We need to be tough enough to be tender, no matter who is watching.

In my life I can’t tell you how many times I’ve heard myself or other parents say, “Don’t cry, big boys don’t cry”, or “It’s OK, don’t cry.” Why do we do that? For the past five or six years (not a long time, but it is a start) whenever I’m with someone who cries, I just hold them. I say nothing at all. I support them and if I can go deep enough into my compassion, I’m even able to shed a tear with them.

But it hasn’t always been that way. In my past I felt it was my job to help make things better, to help the person get past the pain they were experiencing, to make it all go away, but now I know that whatever the person is experiencing is OK. It’s all a part of their learning process.

To feel and accept our emotions completely is a beautiful thing – to act out on them – well that’s a different story.

At what age does compassion attain a price – when is it in our life when we learn to balance out what we lose VS what we gain? To have compassion I believe we must first see just how fragile, vulnerable and weak we all are as human beings. As we lose sight of our weakness in the midst of or competitive drive to one up our siblings, neighbors, friends and co-workers and become consumed in our wants, needs and desires, it appears that we tend to lose sight of our greatest strength – the compassion to truly see ourselves in others.

The following story moved me to tears – not so much because of the kindness and compassion of the young players – BUT because my sense of compassion tells me that each and every one of us – is Shay looking for acceptance – that exact acceptance that we hold back from offering unconditionally to others.

Everything nature does is done with perfection!

At a fundraising dinner for a school that serves children with learning disabilities, the father of one of the students delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended. After extolling the school and its dedicated staff, he offered a question:

‘When not interfered with by outside influences, everything nature does is done with perfection. Yet my son, Shay, cannot learn things as other children do. He cannot understand things as other children do. Where is the natural order of things in my son?’

The audience was stilled by the query.

The father continued. ‘I believe that when a child like Shay, who was mentally and physically disabled comes into the world, an opportunity to realize true human nature presents itself, and it comes in the way other people treat that child.

Then he told the following story:

Shay and I had walked past a park where some boys Shay knew were playing baseball. Shay asked, ‘Do you think they’ll let me play?’ I knew that most of the boys would not want someone like Shay on their team, but as a father I also understood that if my son were allowed to play, it would give him a much-needed sense of belonging and some confidence to be accepted by others in spite of his handicaps.

I approached one of the boys on the field and asked (not expecti ng much) if Shay could play. The boy looked around for guidance and said, ‘We’re losing by six runs and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team and we’ll try to put him in to bat in the ninth inning.’

Shay struggled over to the team’s bench and, with a broad smile, put on a team shirt. I watched with a small tear in my eye and warmth in my heart. The boys saw my joy at my son being accepted.

In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shay’s team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. In the top of the ninth inning, Shay put on a glove and played in the right field. Even though no hits came his way, he was obviously ecstatic just to be in the game and on the field, grinning from ear to ear as I waved to him from the stands. In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shay’s team scored again. Now, with two outs and the bases loaded, the potential winning run was on base and Shay was scheduled to be next at bat.

At this juncture, do they let Shay bat and give away their chance to win the game?

Surprisingly, Shay was given the bat. Everyone knew that a hit was all but impossible because Shay didn’t even know how to hold the bat properly, much less connect with the ball. However, as Shay stepped up to the plate, the pitcher, recognizing that the other team was putting winning aside for this moment in Shay’s life, moved in a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shay could at least make contact.

The first pitch came and Shay swung clumsily and missed. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly towards Shay. As the pitch came in, Shay swung at the ball and hit a slow ground ball right back to the pitcher. The game would now be over.

The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could have easily thrown the ball to the first baseman and Shay would have been out and that would have been the end of the game.

Instead, the pitcher threw the ball right over the first baseman’s head, out of reach of all team mates. Everyone from the stands and both teams started yelling, ‘Shay, run to first! Run to first!’ He scampered down the baseline, wide-eyed and startled.

Never in his life had Shay ever run that far, but he made it to first base. Everyone yelled, ‘Run to second, run to second!’ Catching his breath, Shay awkwardly ran towards second, gleaming and struggling to make it to the base.

By the time Shay rounded towards second base, the right fielder had the ball, the smallest guy on their team who now had his first chance to be the hero for his team. He could have thrown the ball to the second-baseman for the tag, but he understood the pitcher’s intentions so he, too, intentionally threw the ball high and far over the third-baseman’s head.

Shay ran toward third base deliriously as the runners ahead of him circled the bases toward home. All were screaming, ‘Shay, Shay, Shay, all the Way Shay!’

Shay reached third base because the opposing shortstop ran to help him by turning him in the direction of third base, and shouted, ‘Run to third! Shay, run to third!’ As Shay rounded third, the boys from both teams, and the spectators, were on their feet screaming, ‘Shay, run home! Run home!’

Shay ran to home, stepped on the plate, and was cheered as the hero who hit the grand slam and won the game for his team.

‘That day’, said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, ‘the boys from both teams helped bring a piece of true love and humanity into this world!’

Shay didn’t make it to another summer. He died that winter, having never forgotten being the hero and making me so happy and coming home and seeing his Mother tearfully embrace her little hero of the day!

Today I am writing my first weekly report on my progress pertaining to “Finding Forgiveness” as I read and practice the book by Eileen Borris.

This morning I was reading page 65 “We learn about compassion by practicing compassion. Very often in a public talk I am asked what the easiest way to develop compassion is. This kind of question frustrates me. It takes me a lot of effort to transform. Yet in materially based societies where everyone is on the run, we want what is best, cheapest, and easiest. This attitude can not apply in the spiritual realm. When I speak of compassion, people may get the idea that it is something simple. In reality, to practice compassion takes years of training. – The problem with humanity is that many people are very individualistic and only focus on what is best for them.” - The Dali Lama

Over the past two weeks I have had many opportunities to feel sorry for myself and to cast blame on others – but I have chosen to practice compassion and to try to feel the pain that the other person (who was venting their frustration and inner pain at me) was really feeling.

The feelings that I had while sitting there compassionately listening were completely amazing and ranged from overwhelming sadness to slight confusion to an anxious fear – not the fear that I would be hurt but the fear that they were hurting themselves and appeared to be in grave danger of their delusional thinking.

In addition one other truly amazing thing happened to me – I did not take on their pain. I did not judge their words. I focused on their emotions and sent compassion – which allowed me to remain at peace. But most importantly I did not inject any additional negativity into the situation at hand that would have only made things worse and given more justification to their anger.

In any case I hope you drop by next Wednesday when I add a little more insight pertaining to Frank’s emotional growth in the area of Forgiveness.

Back in the ’30s, a 10 year-old boy entered the corner store sat at a table. The waitress came over and placed a glass of water in front of him.

The little boy looked up and asked, “How much is a chocolate, strawberry ice-cream sundae?”

“Twenty-five cents,” replied the waitress.

The little boy pulled out the coins from his pocket and studied them.

After a minutes he asked, “How much is a plain dish of ice cream?”

The waitress, now noticing more people were entering the store was beginning to grow impatient. “Fifteen cents,” she snapped at him.

The little boy again studied his coins.

“I don’t have all day here! - the waitress barked.

“Sorry, OK I will have the plain ice-cream please.” He said.

The waitress brought over the ice cream, flopped the bowl in front of him, slid the bill under the spoon and then walked away without a word.

The little boy finished the ice cream, paid the cashier and left. When the waitress came back, her eyes filled with tears, because there placed neatly beside the empty dish was a nickel and five pennies.

I can’t even begin to tell you how often I make hasty judgments that I couldn’t be any further from the truth. Why is it so common for us to release our anger and frustration on others, because we think that we or that what we are doing is so much more important than others.

Have we all been treated so poorly that now that we are in a position of authority those smaller or under our control must now pay for our hardships and sorrows?

A frail old man went to live with his son, daughter-in-law, and a four-year old grandson. The old man’s hands trembled, his eyesight was blurred, and his step faltered. The family ate together nightly at the dinner table. But the elderly grandfather’s shaky hands and failing sight made eating rather difficult. Peas rolled off his spoon onto the floor. When he grasped the glass often milk spilled on the tablecloth. The son and daughter-in-law became irritated with the mess. “We must do something about grandfather,” said the son. I’ve had enough of his spilled milk, noisy eating, and food on the floor. So the husband and wife set a small table in the corner. There, grandfather ate alone while the rest of the family enjoyed dinner at the dinner table. Since grandfather had broken a dish or two, his food was served in a wooden bowl. Sometimes when the family glanced in grandfather’s direction, he had a tear in his eye as he ate alone. Still, the only words the couple had for him were sharp admonitions when he dropped a fork or spilled food. The four-year-old watched it all in silence.

One evening before supper, the father noticed his son playing with wood scraps on the floor. He asked the child sweetly, “What are you making?” Just as sweetly, the boy responded, “Oh, I am making a little bowl for you and mama to eat your food from when I grow up.” The four-year-old smiled and went back to work. The words so struck the parents that they were speechless. Then tears started to stream down their cheeks. Though no word was spoken, both knew what must be done. That evening the husband took grandfather’s hand and gently led him back to the family table.

For the remainder of his days he ate every meal with the family. And for some reason, neither husband nor wife seemed to care any longer when a fork was dropped, milk spilled, or the tablecloth soiled. 

Our children are amazingly astute and perceptive. Their eyes observe everything; their ears hear everything and their minds process every message we convey, audibly and intuitively, positively or negatively.

Point being – parenting isn’t something we can take lightly nor do we inherently acquire these skills. Parenting is a job we must work at daily – we must apply flexibility, humility and patience to our mistakes so that we may continue to grow and expand as loving understanding parents – until the day we die – the job is not temporary

No one is perfect, especially parents! So remember forgiveness starts with our selves, and flexibility to change teaches our children that when they need to change and admit their errors – that it’s OK.