What a summer this has been! Europe was swarming with tourists. Airports were filled with travelers. We witnessed longer stretches of unusually high temperatures than many of us remember ever experiencing in our lives. We have been centered on attempts to return to a sense of normal after the privations and losses of the pandemic years, mostly looking away from all things unpleasant whenever possible. Certainly we deserve some respite from the distressing situations, but as we know the world is filled with tragedies with or without a worldwide pandemic. It can be a daunting task to pull us out of our doldrums and an even more gigantic task to discern what is the right way to approach the problems that continue to stalk the world’s people. 

Sometimes I wonder what I, as one person, can do to help those living in dire circumstances. It can be overwhelming to consider all of the problems in our own backyards and in far away places that are alien to us. Are there even enough resources on this earth to bring solace to every life, or should I simply shrug that things have always been this way and there is nothing that I can do? These kind of thoughts have confounded me for most of my life. I often think that my altruistic nature was born on the day that my father died. I vividly remember the people who went out of their way to help my family, those who went an extra mile to make sure that we were safe and secure. I become quite emotional thinking of how much their kindness meant to me and my mother and brothers. I have never ever forgotten a single one of them, Aunt Valeria, Uncle Jack, Uncle Willie, Mrs. Barry, Father Fiorenza, my grandparents, Aunt Opal, our neighbors on Belmark Street, the good people of Our Lady of Mount Carmel Church.

Back then I made a promise to be observant and to notice those who are suffering in this world. My resolve was heightened by my sainted mother who showed me and my brothers how to be empathetic and generous. There were times when she literally cried for the poor in spirit, but then she always followed her tears with actions that hundreds of people remembered after she had died. She showed me that one person constantly doing small things is indeed able to change the direction of people’s lives. 

There was nothing showy about my mother’s efforts. In fact, she was quite humble about doing good. It was not something to brag about. She commanded no awards or rewards. She was kind because she believed it was the way we all should be. The people to whom she ministered were often forgotten or misunderstood by others. She did not judge them. She simply loved them and often told me and my brothers how she herself had been shunned when she was a child simply because she was the child of immigrants. Nonetheless, her father taught her to hold her head high and be grateful and proud that she was a citizen of the United States. He urged her to use her good fortune to help those who were not as lucky, and so she did.

We often wonder what our tiny efforts will accomplish, but we forget the power of the exponent. One caring act raised to the power of millions grows with a steep curve. When we unite together to do positive things rather than to gripe and complain about the state of the world we overwhelm the evil forces that destroy innocence. If we see problems it is up to each of us to act if only in a small way. 

We all know people who make great sacrifices to be the helpers in the world. Sometimes their impact isn’t as apparent as it should be. Like my mother they are quietly working on causes that have inspired them. Some do such things in their choices of work like firefighters, doctors, nurses, teachers, scientists, engineers, or even the people who clean up our messes. Each is bringing order and hope for the future to our lives and we often don’t even notice them. Some use their free time or their generous donations to improve the way we all live. Some create films or write essays to bring horrors to our attention or to remind us that we humans have a duality of characteristics that can be heavenly or hellish. It is up to us to choose which we want to foster and be.

It is not enough to simply sit around complaining about the problems of drugs, homelessness, wars, or refugees. There are not walls high enough nor concertina wire strong enough to protect ourselves from misfortune or to allow us to ignore the tired and suffering. We certainly don’t have to drive ourselves into states of despair over the issues of the world, but we can choose to do something positive about a situation that concerns us. Spreading kindness is a reward in itself, bringing us far more joy than time spent accruing things and status. 

I’m certainly not a cockeyed optimist. My life’s story has taught me that we sometimes face overwhelming challenges and that we don’t always get what we want in spite of our best efforts. Still, my mother’s life showed me that we don’t have to perform miracles or do the seemingly impossible to make a difference. All it takes is for each of us to consciously spend time doing something brave and wonderful wherever we think that it may help. Somebody has to do it. Why not be the one!