Being sincerely compassionate

I had the idea for this post a few months ago. But, like many other things in my life, it takes me this long to even sit down and think about it.

This year, I have been an Iraq widow. My husband, away earning dough in Baghdad, started this whole 'experience' mid-July 2009. Since families are not allowed (nor would I want) to go with, we moved to Rexburg, Idaho. Why? We already owned a house & my in-laws live there. Going from Cairo, Egypt to Rexburg is quite the culture shock. Or should I say, religion shock. I haven't lived around this many Mormons since I was at BYU. A frequent exclamation from my kids was, "Hey Mommy! She goes to our church, too!!" Yes, honey, as does 98% of this town. At least it's a familiar environment, compared to an almost 100% Muslim country.

Being a pseudo-single mom in a mostly Mormon community has not been easy. I just don't think they know what to do with me. Husbands don't want to get caught in the hallway alone around me and the wives, I don't know, maybe don't feel like we have anything in common. If communication could be accomplished, it usually started with,

"Yeah, you're the family that's lived all over the world."

"Uh, nice to meet you too. Seems you know all about me. What's your name?"

I understand that there is an 'exotic' taste to my life. But instead of asking other people, you could just talk to me.

I have tried to reach out; inviting people over for dinner, taking walks through the neighborhood and saying "Hi" to anyone that's out in their yard. Once winter hit, boy, everyone is holed up, including ourselves. But unless you were friends before the flakes started flying, you sure as heck weren't meeting anyone new!

Snow = need to shovel the driveway. We were gone during Thanksgiving for the first snowstorm and when we returned, my driveway was shoveled. Aww, how nice! Thing mostly melted the week before Christmas and then, Christmas Eve, we got our wish of a white Christmas. So, shoveling needed to happen again. I went to Walmart (bless that store), bought a shovel and began digging my way out. My neighbor pulled up & said,

"You know, Sister Penrod, myself & a couple other neighbors are keeping an eye on your driveway. You don't need to get out there and do that!"

Aww, how nice! I finished up the job; because I really don't mind. Seriously, after sweeping up sand for 4 years, I like me some snow! The next snowstorm, I had sick kids, but didn't worry about the drifts because they said I'd be taken care of. Four days passed, still not a shovel in sight. On the evening of the fifth day after the storm, I hear the motor of a snow blower in my driveway. Ok, thanks. But after pulling in and out of the garage twice a day for 5 days, there was some compacting of snow. You know, the grooves of solid ice that mark where you've driven over the snow. And, a snow blower, as fast as it may be, doesn't really do the full job. But hey, beggars can't be choosers, right?

I wanted to just be grateful for what I had. But it was really hard driving past the service givers houses that didn't have those annoying ice grooves and a shoveled walk. (they omitted my stairs & walkway. a snow blower 'doesn't do' stairs.) If you guys like having a shoveled walkway and don't like having twin lumps in the driveway, do you think I like it? I hated feeling like this! I would give myself a time out and push that little sassy, ungrateful monster back down and count my blessings.

Mid-January brought more snow. On top of the snow from previous dumpings, it was quite an impressive amount. And in the deep of winter here in the 'Burg, snow usually doesn't melt between storms. This time, a week and a half after snowfall, and still no sight of any do-gooder. I felt stupid sitting inside, like a princess being waited on. I got sick of looking at everyone else's cleared driveways. I got out my shovel and did it myself. Just as I was finishing up my piece d'resistance, my same neighbor is pulling into his (clean) driveway and gets out to scold me,

"Now, Sister Penrod, I said we were handling your snow this winter! Don't do this again!"

Huh? Now I'm just flabbergasted. I make a concession and hold back the tide of flaming comments that could have been fired upon this lame-o. This pattern continued through out the winter. Snow, Wait, no clean driveway, do it myself. Except I never heard from The Neighbor again.

The Conclusion:
Give service willingly without any thought of recompense. But don't make people on the receiving end feel like beggars. Give service as thoughtfully and completely as you would want it. And don't move to Rexburg. Too much snow.

For more service-oriented posts, ideas & projects, go to The Service Soapbox for more inspiration, reality or good times!