Kathy and I had some lovely time with our niece Lorelai a couple of days ago (boy, “babysitting” seems like an absurdly wrong word to use with her anymore) – and while it was mostly fun and goofy, we managed to stumble into a little moment of ethical reflection that caught all of us off guard. We had just had lunch at the Yard Arm (one of Lorelai’s favorite places to eat, and ours as well) and decided to stick around the downtown area for the rest of our fun. Eventually our walk took us to the beautiful little fountain which was erected a few years ago in memory of Laurel Salton Clark, a Racine-born astronaut who perished in one of the space shuttle disasters. Kathy knew Laurel from high school, I interviewed her on the morning show, and Caritas was honored to sing on the occasion of this fountain’s dedication – so it was nice on all sorts of levels to revisit it, even if Lorelai (having not brought her bathing suit along) could only watch enviously as dozens of youngsters dashed in and out of its multi-directional sprays. And we were careful to take a moment and explain to Lorelai why this fountain had been constructed.
The ethical dilemma confronted us jsut as we were about to move on. As Kathy was reading a second plaque to Lorelai, I noticed out of the corner of my eye that an older man was picking some of the roses that adorned one end of the memorial. He wasn’t wearing any sort of uniform to indicate that he worked for the city parks department or that he was picking these flowers for any officially sanctioned reason. He appeared to be picking them for his own pleasure, and I found myself (ever the law & order man) more than a little irritated by such effrontery and a little tempted to make a citizen’s arrest. (I ended up confining myself to some quiet, grumpy muttering under my breath.)
The next thing I knew, the guy had approached us and held out one of the roses to Lorelai, and we didn’t know what to do except thank him. . . at which point he said he was homeless and wondered if we could help him out. With Lorelai standing right there, it didn’t feel right to disregard his polite inquiry (however I might have disapproved of how he went about it) so I handed him a dollar and wished him well. And with that, we parted company.
As we were walking back towards our car, Lorelai said “that was very nice of him.” I wasn’t sure it was good for me to just say “yes,” as if I approved of people purloining flowers out of public spaces without permission – so I replied “well, he was sure trying to be nice.” And right away Lorelai said, as though it had already occurred to her, “he probably shouldn’t have picked those flowers, but I think it was still pretty nice.” And there you have it, from our 7-year-old niece. Life is sometimes very complicated, and there is something to be said for acknowledging life’s many shades of gray, rather than painting everything in the stark colors of black and white – comforting though it might be to live in such a world where right and wrong were as cleanly delineated as the two rails of a railroad track. I am pleased that our niece has a strong moral compass and already cares about right and wrong; I wish more youngsters were like her, in that regard. But it was also nice to see how she is already learning to temper that when compassion and understanding are in order. And as we drove home, Lorelai wasn’t admiring her new flower (which was pink, her absolute favorite color). She was asking us questions about where homeless people sleep at night.
And I shouldn’t have been surprised by that. A few minutes earlier, as we were heading into Racine’s famous Sugar Shack for some ice cream, I pointed out to Lorelai that a woman on the other side of Monument Square was walking a three-legged dog. I can still remember that tender-hearted “awww” sound that Lorelai made as she saw that plucky little dog hopping along on its three legs. One might see that sight and say “how weird” or “how funny” – but for Lorelai, looking through eyes so gentle and compassionate, her reaction was a sympathetic and admiring “awwww.”
May it always be so.
pictured above: Another moment from our big day. These rocks are right along the Lake Michigan shoreline.