Voice of Compassion
I heard a story about Fiorello LaGuardia who was mayor of
New York City during the worst days of the Great Depression
and all of WWII. He was adored by many New Yorkers who took
to calling him the "Little Flower," because of his name and
the fact that he was so short and always wore a carnation in
his lapel.
He was a colorful character -- he rode the New York City
fire trucks, raided city "speakeasies" with the police
department, took entire orphanages to baseball games and,
when the New York newspapers went on strike, he got on the
radio and read the Sunday funnies to the kids.
One bitterly cold night in January of 1935, the mayor turned
up at a night court that served the poorest ward of the
city. LaGuardia dismissed the judge for the evening and took
over the bench himself. Within a few minutes, a tattered old
woman was brought before him, charged with stealing a loaf
of bread. She told LaGuardia that her daughter's husband had
deserted her, her daughter was sick, and her two
grandchildren were starving.
But the shopkeeper, from whom the bread was stolen, refused
to drop the charges. "It's a real bad neighborhood, Your
Honor," the man told the mayor. "She's got to be punished to
teach other people around here a lesson."
LaGuardia sighed. He turned to the woman and said, "I've got
to punish you. The law makes no exceptions. Ten dollars or
ten days in jail." But even as he pronounced sentence, the
mayor was already reaching into his pocket. He extracted a
bill and tossed it into his famous hat, saying, "Here is the
ten dollar fine which I now remit; and furthermore, I am
going to fine everyone in this courtroom fifty cents for
living in a town where a person has to steal bread so that
her grandchildren can eat. Mr. Bailiff, collect the fines
and give them to the defendant."
The following day, New York City newspapers reported that
$47.50 was turned over to a bewildered woman who had stolen
a loaf of bread to feed her starving grandchildren. Fifty
cents of that amount was contributed by the grocery store
owner himself, while some seventy petty criminals, people
with traffic violations, and New York City policemen, each
of whom had just paid fifty cents for the privilege of doing
so, gave the mayor a standing ovation.
Someone beautifully said, "Sympathy sees and says, 'I'm sorry.' Compassion sees and says, 'I'll help.'" When we learn the difference, we can make a difference.
Steve Goodier Life Support http://www.LifeSupportSystem.com