Be not forgetful to entertain strangers:
for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.
- Hebrews 13:2
For the last week I've been haunted by the memory of a heartbreaking incident that happened over forty years ago. I'm not quite sure why the memory has resurfaced after all these years. Perhaps it's because I've been feeling especially sensitive since I woke up one morning last week experiencing a touch of SADness, (seasonal affective disorder) which is perfectly understandable at this time of year. Although I quickly stabilised my mood with a dose of pseudo-sunlight from my sun therapy lamp, as well as a vigorous yoga practise, the unhappy memory lingers.
The tearful incident happened when I was experiencing my first dive into a long history of clinical depression, which only ceased to plague me relatively recently. It was a mid-winter afternoon and I was walking downtown, feeling typically self-absorbed and sorry for myself, as one is wont to do when depression holds sway.
There wasn't much human traffic on the city sidewalk, so I had a clear view of a female figure walking towards me. A golden retriever was pressing tightly up against her thigh as they walked in step together. I marvelled at how closely the dog leaned against his human companion, as if they depended on each other to stay upright. As the devoted pair came closer, I could see that the human was a young woman whose face was horribly disfigured, probably from severe burns. Her injuries were so extreme it was clear that she'd be malformed for the rest of her life, no matter how much cosmetic surgery she might have. I caught a glimpse of her eyes, which looked vacantly off into the distance. It wrenched my heart to see her, and I immediately forgot about my own troubles. My hardships paled in comparison to what she must have suffered. Her pain and the dog's devotion were almost more than I could bear. I couldn't help thinking that the most love and loyalty she would ever know would be from the dog that walked by her side. 
As the young woman and dog passed by, I heard a couple of teenage boys who'd been walking behind me exclaim "Eeww. That's gross, man. Who'd ever wanna fuck that?" Their thoughtless words were followed by loud, cruel laughter. They clearly took pleasure in their deliberate display of heartlessness.All at once I fell apart, and wept as hard as I've ever done for a complete stranger on the street whom I'd seen for barely a minute. My grief for the young woman was matched in intensity by my anger with the two boys who mocked her so viciously.
Despite the negative emotions that swept through me, I realised that my reaction was because I felt compassion. Someone else's physical and emotional suffering momentarily made me forget mine. Although my pain was surely nothing compared to hers, my own vulnerability opened me to feelings of deep empathy.
I've thought about that poor soul frequently in the last week, and have been surprised by the many tears I've shed for her. When I was mired in self-pity, seeing her briefly lifted me out of myself and showed me how feeling compassion for others can be a salve for my own soul.
Bless you, dear Lady, wherever you may be. Whether you live or not, know that your life has not been without purpose. Many years ago you taught a perfect stranger a deep lesson in love by simply being your beautiful, wounded self. You helped another troubled soul feel her heart open with compassion, and the memory of that experience continues to do so. You are truly the dearest of angels.
- g.p.
