The Gift of Compassion

Just a couple days after my miscarriage in 2009, a dear friend sent me a small package containing a handwritten note and a prism hanging on a string. This is a women who cares for a full house and has plenty of excuses for not reaching out to every person in need, but somehow she managed to promptly find and send me a beautiful gift and a message that I will treasure for years. She wrote:

Dear Rebecca,

My heart is broken for you. We have all been robbed, and no one more than you, Ben and Caleb. How strange to think there could be a bosom even more perfect for your baby than your own.

Someday, when our tears have been wiped away and all is made new, we will see a brilliant and beautiful person who could only be the child of Benjamin and Rebecca, and we will finally hold and know and marvel at your baby. Until then, here is something that could never approximate that beauty and brilliance. We are all poor icons of what is real. So I hope that even what feeble light it can refract for you will bring you joy.

I pray that the Lord would allow me to somehow be there for others at just the right time with just the right words, as this dear friend was able to be there for me. If there’s nothing else that we learn from this journey of barrenness, let us at least learn true compassion and empathy.