Compassion

Stray dog

Stray dog (Photo credit: Wim Mulder)

This was his second visit to the picnic in the park.  He’d been there last
Sunday for the first time.  Some folks had tried to engage him, while others had
ignored him or shied away from him.  It was the children who were most
excited–some downright delighted.  Several were suprised to see him there for
the second Sunday in a row.  His kind didn’t tend to hang around one spot for
long.

But this stray puppy hadn’t.  There he was.  Maybe he’d caught a
whiff of the fried chicken that was being served that night.  Maybe he was more
hungry than afraid.  Maybe he saw the children and knew he wouldn’t be hurt.

He hung around the outskirts of our picnic.  It was a big group of
folks, and they were finishing up their fried chicken and macaroni and cheese.
I noticed one of our friends, Mr. R, picking something out of the trash can.
When he moved over to the second can, I saw he had chicken bones in his hands.
He tossed some over at our hesitant guest, who ran up, grabbed one, and ran back
at what he perceived to be a safe distance.  I spoke softly to Mr. R, “That’s
really sweet, Mr. R.”

As he tossed another set of bones over to the
same spot, he shrugged his shoulders and said, “Well…..he’s homeless too.”

Compassion.  It’s a beautiful thing to see.

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