Shame.

"You must be the change you want to see in the world."
-Mahatma Gandhi

Today when I was walking to work, I heard a woman sobbing.

I turned and saw here, crying passionately on the phone, and I wanted to do something to help her. I hesitated, and then went inside the building, deciding that she would be embarrassed to know that I knew that she was crying. At least, that's how I would feel, so I assumed that's how she would feel, too.

I stopped once inside, and stood there, struggling stupidly with my decision to ignore her. I changed my mind, and went out to help her, but found she was already gone. I felt ashamed.

I pray every day for opportunities to help other people, and I feel happiest when I can do just that. Is that not the essence of the gospel of Jesus Christ: finding joy in service to others? I don't always miss the call to action, but so often I miss my chances, and deeply regret my hesitance.

We all have our walls. Once I was boarding a plane in the JFK airport (or rather, the we-are-bugs-in-a-bottle airport), and I saw a man trying to communicate with two flight attendants. He was deaf, and neither of the attendants knew sign language, so the communication was laborious and frustrating for all three. I know sign language. Once again my desire to help struggled against my aversion to embarrassment, and I did not help.

The deepest regret I have of all is when one of my girls at efy was sick, and the health counselors, busy and inexperienced, didn't think that it was serious. Like Miss Clavel, I kept on saying, and feeling, that "something was not right," and I asked them to come visit her multiple times. I did not, however, insist upon further action. I wanted to, but I didn't want to make a "big deal" about it if I was wrong. So I didn't push. On the morning of the last day, she collapsed in the hall, and was taken by ambulance to the hospital, where she was diagnosed with type I diabetes, a condition I have myself suffered more than ten years. Why did I not insist?

There are many things to regret in a life; these are mine. Of course, they all are excusable, none of the woe or frustration in these situations were ever my fault. The woman this afternoon was a stranger, so was the deaf man, and my efy camper insisted she was fine along with the health counselor, and after all, I did make sure she was seen every day that she felt sick by the health counselor.

I just think I could do better.