Moved with pity to action

When the Lord saw her, he was moved with pity for her and said to her, “Do not weep.” (Luke 7:13)

This verse struck a chord within me this morning when I heard it at Mass.  It reminded me that we are supposed to be ‘moved’ by pity.  Pity is synonymous with compassion.  In fact the Webster Dictionary defines pity as “the feeling of sorrow and compassion caused by the suffering and misfortunes of others.”  But I think it’s more than just a feeling.  It’s a call to action.  The word compassion means ‘to share in the sufferings of another’.   To have sympathy for someone who is suffering is just not enough.  We have to do whatever we can to take some of the suffering upon ourselves and make it easier for our neighbor to cope.

I was 11 years old and in the Boy Scouts.  It was going to be my first hiking and camping trip. Ken Jansen, the kid down the street and a good friend, was already in the troop.  He and I spent hours together while he showed me how to tie all of the knots I had to know to become a Tenderfoot.  Then he told me all about camping.  I would have to have a pack with a frame (which was a relatively new concept in those days, but quite common now) and, of course, a good sleeping bag.

Since we didn't have a lot of money, I used a hand-me-down pack from my brother Bob's days in the Scouts.  It had "Bob Farnsworth" written on the flap.  I crossed out the "Bob" and wrote "Steve".  I also had to use an old sleeping bag.  Ken and I built a frame assembly for the pack out of a lightweight wood (I think it was made out of 1/4" x 1" furring strips) in his back yard.  I was so proud of myself for my ingenuity and could hardly wait to try it out.

The hike was a 10-mile hike; 5 miles in, 5 miles out. Everything looked good. I had everything I needed, and everyone said they thought my pack frame was terrific.  We left early on Saturday morning from Our Lady of Lourdes Church, which was the sponsor of our troop.  Since I was the new scout, I rode with the scoutmaster, Dr. Haughey and his son Mike, who was the Senior Patrol Leader. There were other kids too, and we were all excited for the weekend!

It only took about an hour or so to get to the trailhead, which was near Sunland, California. We split up into "patrols" and each of us was assigned a "buddy". Of course, since Ken and I were good friends, we chose each other as buddies. We were supposed to stick together like glue for the duration of the camping trip.

Ken was a good hiker, with a good pace. It was very difficult to keep up with him. It didn't help that the frame I had built was falling apart with every step I took. In addition, the knots I had worked so hard to learn and that held my sleeping bag to my pack came loose and I had to carry the bag separately, like a bag of groceries. About a mile into the trip, I was close to tears.  I was not prepared for the weight of the pack, the destruction of my frame, or the pace of my “buddy”.

Mike saw the problems I was having and was “moved to pity” for me.  He then gave me a lesson in leadership, but most of all compassion that I will never forget.  Instead of berating me for not being able to carry my share of the load, he had the entire patrol stop right on the trail. He dissected his pack and showed each of us how he packed his own supplies and why.  Then he had each of us do the same. Of course, since I was the only one that didn't have a frame to attach my sleeping bag to, he showed me the proper way to tie it to the pack, under the top flap.

Some of the other boys were making fun of me for being so slow and unable to carry such a heavy pack. Mike made it clear that this was unacceptable behavior and that the only way somebody learns is through his mistakes. He asked each one of the other guys to come up with one idea each that would help me make it through the weekend.  When we started out on the trail again, he asked me if we could trade packs!  Since his outfit was state-of-the-art, I didn't refuse.  What a difference!  Then, he set a pace that ALL of us could follow the rest of the way in, singing songs with a cadence that made it seem easier and before we knew it, we had arrived.  It was on this trip that I learned the song “A Hundred Bottles of Beer.”

Mike decided to take me "under his wings" and for the rest of the weekend we were buddies. After that trip, I was inspired to save every penny I could and buy the right camping gear before we went out again.  With a little help from my mom and dad through a raise in my allowance, I made it happen.

Because of Mike's example of compassion and leadership, my years in the Boy Scouts were some of the most enjoyable of my life. In time, I even became the Senior Patrol Leader of the troop, and I was able to lead and teach the younger scouts in the same way Mike taught me on that first outing.