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Compassion
One of the characteristics I hoped and prayed (and, quite frankly, predicted) my daughter would possess is that of compassion for others. Even before I knew I would eventually begin to work therapeutically with the criminal population, and witness the horrors that result from antisocial thinking and behavior, I desired above all that empathy would be an inherent trait in my offspring. It looks as though my prayers were answered; Avey has a soft spot for all creatures both real and fantastic. She is even able to relate with a plethora of nonliving things, such as rocks, clothing, books, clothespins, etc. As Abraham Lincoln said, “If you look for the bad in people, you will surely find it,” Avey seems to look for the good in everyone and everything – refusing to believe that there are useless objects, meaningless creatures, or lost souls. She has apparently taken the ideological stance that if it exists there must be something beautiful about it. Observe her philosophy on a creature whom I have a hard time restraining myself from killing:
Notice her choice of words, “I love moths a little bit.” Instead of mostly hating them, she has chosen to see the vermin as a proverbial glass half full (or in this case maybe only a few drops full). I’m lucky that she is my daughter – it seems that I still have volumes to learn.
I’ve been under the weather for about half of the week. Avey, astute as always, caught on to this during dinner one evening and queried, “Are you sick Daddy?” I answered in the affirmative, giving her a pouty lip just to punctuate the circumstance. She considered for a moment, making her diagnosis, and then suggested, “Maybe salt will help!”
Ah yes, even though she was clueless as to how to treat my symptoms, she combined her three years of pre-basic first aid knowledge and came up with the best solution she could. I have to admit though, after laughing for about 3 full minutes I did feel significantly better. In this case certainly, it is the thought that counts.