Compasion

I have been looking since my last post for something inspirational and uplifting to put in my blog, but I cannot say the last several weeks have been incredibly uplifting. Have you ever felt like death has been following you around. In the last little while I have had two of our employees at the golf course who were good friends of mine pass away. My bosses mother passed away, and then we had a murder at the golf course.

It should have came as no surprised to me that someone had died in the basement of our neighbors house. The house in which this occurred was still under construction and my father, brother, and myself had spent several weekends and some day's in between at this house installing the furnace. On one day we had met the young man who had died in the basement of this home. His name was Lorne. I guess he was what you might call a "lost boy". His family is polygamous and he somehow he had become a drug addict as he had been out in the world. You could tell that the drugs had done a job on his body and mind. While I barely knew him I was very sad to hear of his passing.

Part of the reason I felt so badly for him was that the circumstances by which he passed away reminded me of a similar experience I had seen when I was fifteen. Our neighbors and some of our greatest friends would allow the kids in the neighborhood to work for them in the summer. The money for kids our age was good, but the work at times was pretty heavy especially when you were lighter than some of the lumber you were asked to carry.
Mark who was the owner of the construction company and boss off all of us kids always had a way finding "strays" and taking them in and giving them work. That summer one of those strays was a man named Van. Van had been a drug addict and at that time was still a fairly heavy drinker. He had at one time as I understood been a fairly successful man but had smoked it all away. Mark would often leave us at his apartment to get a hungover Van out of bed and to work. As a fifteen year old boy I never really knew what to think of Van. Sometimes I would feel bad for him, others I was repulsed by him, and some days I was just annoyed. One day I had been left to get him to work. This Particular day he was particularly slow in getting out of bed and When he finally go out of bed he seemed to have little interest in getting to work quickly. I stood in the hallway for some time getting more annoyed as the minutes passed. Finally we made it to his car and were on our way to the job. We pulled out of the drive way and he promptly lit up a cigarette. I had never really been around any one who smoked and didn't want to be plus I had, had enough of him. I snapped at him telling him to put the cigarette out while I rolled the window down. I think I took Van by surprise as he reluctantly put out the cigarette and became very quite. I think i said some other things but i can't remember exactly what, what I do remember is that several months later Van died.

I didn't really see Van again after that day and remember thinking good riddance when he died. Sometime later I was told he had been baptised and had really gotten his life straightened around. I felt horrible for what I thought about him. I could never really see the worth of his soul as Mark could. After Van I have never looked at people who had fallen on tough times the same way.

Over the years i have seen Mark time and time again take in people whom most probably wouldn't touch with two ten foot poles. Time and time again he manges not only to help them, but inspire them to be better people. Lorne was one of those people Mark was helping. He was trying! Mark stopped by our house today after Lorne's funeral. He didn't need to go but he did. He told us how touch he had been by the service, and how strongly it had affected him. I find that type of compassion inspiring. I have often wished that I had shown Van that same type of compassion.