Yesterday, When I was Mad

To preface this story, let me say that German and how to teach it wasn’t all I learned in college.  One of the most important things one will learn in college is how to live in close proximity to other people.  Let me rephrase that.  One learns how to live in the same building and respect boundaries and common areas.  This woman never acquired that information and pretty much has behaved as if the whole four family building is her home without regard of the other occupants.

I came home from work, pulled into the driveway and saw that 3 of the 4 garage doors were wide open with no cars inside.  I didn’t see any of the cohabitants around.  I had a pretty good idea who had opened them and left them open. 

Earlier in the week, my husband had come home to the same thing, but the daughter of the man across the hall was in there with her friend.  She explained it was really hot in there, so, she opened all the doors.  My first thought was, “What?”  My mind went racing, indignation running rampant.  “It’s not her personal play place!  What the…”  This was not the first incidence of lack of common courtesy that would be displayed, nor would it be the last.

Back to yesterday.  I went in the building and asked the downstairs neighbors if, by any chance, they had left their garage doors open and possibly opened ours.  Of course not.  I was super annoyed by it as were the others.  I started to recall other audacious examples of rude behavior exhibited by this woman.  I was on a mission.  I was going to call the landlord’s handyman.  I didn’t have the number, but as soon as my husband got home, I’d get it and call.  As I sat at my dining room table thinking about all of this, it began.

She was slamming doors, yelling at her child and the dog.  I didn’t know if it was going to end.  I became set in my mind that I needed to say something.  I got up, went to the back door and opened it.  She stood there, obviously upset and frazzled.  I looked at her and a wave of compassion hit me, mostly for her child, but for her as well.

“Do you need some help?”  I offered.  There was no anger or indignation in my voice, more a tone of, “I can see you’re overwhelmed.”  She almost burst into tears.  She started to decline, but I asked her if she wanted me to watch her child while she packed her things.  She humbly nodded.  I told her to give me a couple diapers and a bottle.  Her father had to coax the child to come into my home.  Once inside, I lead him to my son’s room and asked him to play with the little boy.

Two very important things happened that I wouldn’t have seen otherwise.  First, the yelling and door slamming stopped.  The tension was broken and a calm had fallen over the place.  Second, I got the chance to see how my son would be as a big brother.  My heart burst.  He was so sweet with the little guy. 

It was really evident that our home was no longer baby-proofed.  I didn’t have a whole lot for him to do.  But, that little boy just pulled at my heart. 

If I had stayed in my ire and hardened my heart, none of this would have happened.  My point is that, sometimes, especially when it’s difficult, compassion is the answer.  We live in a world that is so full of people who feel entitled and think they deserve certain things.  Even I fall short and feel that way sometimes, as is evident in the first paragraphs.

I urge you to consider kindness and compassion when dealing with a difficult personality.  I know some of the back story on this woman.  I don’t pity her, because she has chosen the path she is on.  Her path isn’t easy, but I want to be encouraging to people who are having a hard time.  I don’t want to make things worse by making their paths even more difficult.