By Mary Beth May ’14 MDiv

Dad’s heart irregularity reached the point where he needed a more aggressive treatment. He opted for surgery. As a 17-year-old, the phrase “heart surgery” scared me. Dad did not show any fear or concern, and Mom fussed over his health but did not seem overly worried. Still, I was nervous.

While Dad’s surgery went wonderfully, he had to recover from a major surgery. He lay in bed, feeling sick and exhausted. I accompanied my parents to the hospital to sit with Mom in the waiting room and to be by his bedside as he recovered. I offered what support I could, but I felt useless. What was I supposed to do to help my strong, capable dad while he was sick and weak? I wanted to run out of that hospital room and only see Dad when he was back to normal. But not my mom. She knew what to do.

She held Dad’s hand and kissed his forehead. She knew when to send for the nurses and how to help Dad in and out of bed. Surely it was difficult for her to see someone she loved in pain, but she did not run away in fear. Rather, she stayed to help and comfort him. In that short amount of time, Mom taught me what compassion is and how to accompany someone in the midst of suffering.

When faced with suffering I wanted to run away. But not Mom.

When faced with Jesus’ suffering on the cross, some of the disciples did run away. But not Mary.

Mary, our mother, knew what to do when her beloved son carried his cross. She could not do much, but she stayed, offering Jesus her presence and solidarity.

Like Mary, my own mother taught me how to accompany others with compassion. She showed me that the suffering of others is not something to fear. Like Mary, my own mother understood that we cannot run away from challenges. She taught me that we are called to go beyond our own fear and insecurities—whether it is staying by the bedside of a sick loved one or reaching out to the lonely.

As the Church, the Body of Christ, we are called to community. We are called to respond like Mary did when her beloved Son hung on the cross. We are called to offer our presence and compassion to those in need.