The Most Interesting Critique I've Ever Been Given

“You’re too…compassionate.” The 12-year-old spit the words out at me as she sat on the plastic chair.

Reclining on the adjacent porch swing, I pondered her statement. “What do you mean?”

“You’re always so happy and smiling and it’s annoying.” Her words had finality to them, as if there was no arguing her statements.

I tried to trace back the events of that day to think of what had inspired such acidic words from the regular camper. A minute before her statement, I had commented on something—a helicopter, a dog, a tree—something that had piqued my interest. Maybe that was it.

I found myself looking at her, just staring, trying to figure out what she was really saying. She was looking to the right, nostrils flaring, eyes too hardened and angry for her age. I began to sort through my thoughts, tossing out the ones that wanted to get defensive at her comments, the ones that wanted to be hurt by her words, and finally got to the ones that really mattered.

“I want to ask you something.” She turned back to look at me. “Why do you think I’m here this summer?”

“I don’t know,” she said. “...Because you care.”

I nodded my head in affirmative surprise. “Hmmm…yeah, that’s right. What do you think would happen if I didn’t care…do you think I’d be here this summer?”

“No.” She sounded like she was stating the obvious.

“Yeah…I’d probably leave.” I paused and leaned forward towards her. “Do you want me to leave?”

Seeing where I was going, a slight smile appeared on her face. “No.”

“Well…then I’m not going to change. Compassion it is.”

Sitting back once again on the swing, we sat in content silence, listening to the birds and smacking the mosquitos that dove near us.