Your Mission: Become the Person Who’d Help You
Learn to show yourself compassion, so you can also show it to others
Her name was Marsha.
I watched in my rearview mirror as she exited the mailroom and stepped off the curb into the parking lot.
A moment later, after I’d pulled into my spot, walked to the back of my car, and grabbed my groceries, I saw her on the ground about 15 feet from where I’d last seen her. She was sitting upright on the asphalt, her mail strewn about in a semicircle.
At first, I thought she was resting, but it quickly dawned on me that she was trying to regain her bearings.
“Are you ok?” I asked from halfway across the lot.
“I fell,” she responded with a shaky voice.
“Is it ok if I approach you?” I inquired.
In my line of work, I’ve learned that just because someone is in a vulnerable position, it doesn’t necessarily mean they want help. I also recognized that in today’s social environment, an elderly woman barely five feet tall could perceive a 6’ 1”, 185-pound stranger as a threat. Either way, I wanted her to know she was in control.
“Yes, please,” she said.
I walked over, set my groceries on the sidewalk caddy-corner to her, picked up her mail, and placed it beside my bags. Then, I knelt beside her and asked if she was hurt.
“I fell pretty hard on my wrist and it’s a bit sore and scratched, but I think I’m ok,” she explained.
“Can I help you up?” I asked.
“Oh, that would be wonderful, thank you,” she answered.
“What’s the best way I can assist? Would you like me to hold your hand, support your wrist and elbow, or lift you from underneath your arms?”
“Underneath my arms, please,” she requested.
I moved into position. “Alright, are you ready? One, two, three… up we go.”
Once I was sure she was steady on her feet, I asked her if I could grab her mail and accompany her home to ensure she arrived safely.
“Yes, please, thank you so much,” she said. “I live just around the corner.”
With her mail tucked underneath my left arm, and my right hand supporting one of her forearms, we slowly shuffled the 50-ish feet along the sidewalk to her garden-level apartment.
“My name’s Derek,” I told her.
“Hi, Derek, I’m Marsha,” she replied.
“Well, I’m sorry we met under these conditions, but it’s wonderful to have crossed your path,” I confessed.
“Oh, you’re too kind. It’s wonderful to meet you as well,” she said.
Once we reached her apartment, I noticed two elevated wooden planters surrounding her small patio, from which several evergreen bushes overflowed.
“Please just place my mail in there,” she requested, “and I’ll come back out in a bit and grab it.”
“You bet,” I said.
I put the envelopes where she asked and watched her shuffle across the patio, open one of her French doors, and step inside before asking, “Is there anything else I can help you with?”
She turned and replied, “No, but thank you so much for your kindness and patience. I don’t know how long I would’ve sat there if you didn’t come along and offer to help.”
As I started to turn and walk back to my groceries, I smiled and said, “It was my pleasure, Marsha. Thank you for making my day that much brighter.”
And I meant it. My brief time with her was a powerful reminder:
Wherever we find ourselves in life, and whatever challenges we face at the time, may we remain the person we hope would show up for us during our most vulnerable moments.
Which is something we can only accomplish when we first show ourselves unflinching compassion.
For I am you, and you are me.
Our separation is an illusion.
And the faster we can mindfully remember this, the better our world will be.