“Well, grab some anyway. We always have more than enough. Or come back tomorrow when you’re hungry again.”
He reminds me of my dad.
And then he looks me in the eye as he shakes my hand one last time and says, “Take care of yourself, Danielle.” I smile; he had been working to remember my name. And then: “I’ll never forget you.”
I walk away, slightly stunned by his words. “I’ll never forget you”? What was there even to remember, anyway? All I did was stand there and listen.
Maybe that’s all that compassion is. Standing there, and listening.
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Danielle Kim ’12, a Crimson Design Chair, is an anthropology concentrator in Quincy House. Her column will now appear on occasional Thursdays.