Compassion

I was woken up around 5:30 in the morning recently. A clearly distraught woman was persistently, angrily, and hoarsely raising her voice outside.

I bolted alert to see if I could tell if she was in trouble, or danger. It didn't seem so. I tried to get back to sleep.

Silence for a bit, followed by another loud interruption. Her tone was one of fear, anger, rebuke, agitation - defiance mixed with powerlessness, and she had a lot to say.

I got up and looked out a window to see what was happening.

By the street was a woman sitting on the sidewalk, insistently crying at a group of four emergency response workers in full PPE, who were standing over her as she ranted.

Ours is a short, quiet residential street. I recognize all my neighbours, but I didn't recognize her. She clearly needed help, as the morning was chilly, and she was clearly troubled.

Then I saw a lovely thing.

One of the EMTs sat right down on the sidewalk beside her, and waved his partners away. He listened to her carefully and unhurriedly as she explained her troubles. Her tone became quieter, and they shared a gentle discussion, presumably about the next best steps for her.

After a few minutes, the caring fellow helped her up, into the back of their vehicle, and they drove off. I was reminded of how important training in de-escalation is for all of our first responders, and how valuable they are to us.

I said a prayer asking that all the other caregivers she met that day would treat her with the same dignity, patience, and compassion.