During a recent meeting of our Confraternity, (the Confraternity of Vincentians on the Frontier/Diaspora), we shared some information about the latest social events in Guatemala and our involvement in them as Vincentians. We referred to the presence of the Daughters of Charity, supporting the sit-in in front of the Public Ministry with food and participation and we also noted the participation of a priest of the Congregation of the Mission concelebrating during the Eucharistic.

This participation raised many questions for me. Where are those who are the voice of those who have no voice? Where are those individuals when confronted by people who suffer the outrages of a government that is becoming more and more authoritarian. Where are those individuals when confronted by people who demand the defense of Democracy. Where are those individuals when confronted by people who cry out for the respect of Natural Resources. Where are those individuals when confronted by people who demand respect for life, a life with dignity. Could it be that all the words of St. Vincent de Paul have remained just that, simple words? Or is it that it sounds nice to say that I am a Vincentian and I go to the meetings in order to appear in the photo, but I am not willing to dirty my hands in order to know the reality of the people who go to the Plaza and demand respect for their rights? So, my questions remain: as Vincentians, do we empathize or sympathize with our fellow human beings?

According to the Oxford Language definitions:

Sympathy is a feeling, usually instinctive, of affection or inclination toward persons or toward their attitude or behavior that causes one to find their presence pleasing, to wish things well for them… (from my home watching the events).

Empathy is the affective participation of individuals in a reality foreign to them, generally in the feelings of another person… (on a par with the people who suffer and demand).

We all have the freedom to clothe ourselves in either of those attitudes. In this regard I remembered a not very old fable that I read on the internet titled: “The Mouse and the Mousetrap.”

Every night, Mr. Mouse squeezed his way through a small crack in the wall, looking for whatever food he might find, even the smallest crumbs that may have slid under a cabinet. One night, he looked through the crack, and saw the farmer and his wife opening a package. “What new food might I find tonight?” Mr. Mouse said, excited. But, he was devastated to discover it was a mousetrap. Heart pounding, Mr. Mouse ran out to the farmyard and cried out to his farm animal friends for help, “There’s a mousetrap in the house! There’s a mousetrap in the house!” The chicken clucked and scratched, raised her head and said “Mr. Mouse, I can tell this is a grave concern to you, but this is your problem and of no consequence to me. I cannot be bothered by it.” Mr. Mouse scurried to the pig in desperation. “There’s a mousetrap in the house! There’s a mousetrap in the house!” The pig sympathized but said “I am so very sorry for your difficult and challenging situation Mr. Mouse, but there’s nothing I can do about it but pray. Be assured you are in my prayers.” Mr. Mouse turned to the cow, totally helpless. “There’s a mousetrap in the house! There’s a mousetrap in the house! Please, help me!” The cow said, “Wow, Mr. Mouse. That’s so awful. I’m sorry for you, but it doesn’t affect me. I wish you well and be careful.” So, the mouse returned to the house, head down and dejected, to try and find some food so he wouldn’t starve and face the farmer’s mousetrap alone in the darkness. That very night a sound was heard throughout the house—like the sound of a mousetrap catching its prey. The farmer’s wife rushed to see what was caught. In the darkness, she did not see that the trap had caught a venomous snake’s tail. The snake bit her ankle. The farmer rushed her to the hospital but was returned home with a fever. Knowing that the best remedy for a fever is a hearty chicken soup, the farmer took his hatchet to the farmyard for the soup’s main ingredient. But his wife’s condition worsened. Family, friends, and neighbors came to sit with her around the clock. To feed them, the farmer butchered the pig. The farmer’s wife did not get well, and died. So many people came for her funeral, that the farmer had the cow slaughtered to provide enough meat for all of them. Mr. Mouse looked upon it all from his crack in the wall with great sadness.

The next time you hear that someone is facing a problem and you think the problem doesn’t deserve your attention, remember that when there is a mousetrap in the house, everything and everyone in the house is at risk.

So, in the face of my neighbor’s difficulties, am I being sympathetic or empathetic?

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