Skip to main content

Gossip vs. Compassion

 How I Really Feel...

Gossip versus Compassion:

In 1977 upon the beginning of my 2nd year of Cross-Country running and 2nd year in high school.  There were about seven of us girls running the Saturday before Labor Day on a training run through the field areas of our high school.  I kept quiet, for the most part, listening to the girls giggle about some odd thing. They were gossipping. Basically,  I despise gossip, always have.  So, when I heard what I felt was tragic news of a former female competitor from another school...that her hopes of going to a high-end university on a scholarship were suddenly dashed, I inquired. I asked,  upon finding out that the former competitor of ours had gotten pregnant over the summer, "How...?" Of course they laughed and made fun of me. Which I handled well externally, tortured internally by their discompassionate response. However, what I thought was...I feared that maybe she was raped... Or somehow fell into a bad place.   I didn't know her well, however,  what I saw was a brilliant mind, a young woman with athletic ability and an  incredible beauty about her, yet not something to be envied...something to be admired. These other six girls, four were quite atrocious in their making fun of her...why? Because the boys on our team some thought the competitor from another school was beautiful,  they may have even had the 'hots' for her.  Today those same girls, now perhaps women, I have no clue where they are but like back then, like most people...they still just don't get it... And if you don't give compassion, you may eventually never know how to receive it when you need it the most.---Jody-Lynn Reicher 

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

2023 Holiday Letter from the Reicher's

Well, I didn't think I'd be doing a Holiday Letter this year, but here goes... The Spirit of Norm is in the air. As the wind whips with minus a true snowstorm.  In hopes the Farmers Almanac was correct, I pray to the snow gods. Rain ensued the month of December thus far. We have nearly tripled the amount of rainfall usual for December in New Jersey. And I've witnessed its treachery. Storms such as these hit us hardest in July. Then remained fairly intense through til about early October.  Our daughters are doing well, Thank God.  Their Dad would be proud of them. Our oldest Sarah, now a Junior at UCLA pursuing her degree in Chemical Engineering. She's digging the whole California scene. Which I thought it was for her. She's had some good traveling on her off times from school. For her March 2023 week off, she drove her and a few friends out to Lake Tahoe and went downhill skiing for a first in nearly 5 years. She had to rent the ski equipment.  Funny enough when

Sledging the Hammer

  "You could have a steam trainIf you'd just lay down your tracks..."---Peter Gabriel's 'Sledgehammer' lyrics. This is not the tune that lay in my mind this morning as I reminisced about yesterday's volunteers to help on trail crew.    However, as I looked up the proper definition of sledging that song popped up. I say sledging, which is my own take on swinging a hammer that we call a "Double Jack". The Single Jack is six pounds. I know that because our regular crew of five including me and one staff supervisor are handling Harriman State Park Trails, and have to carry about four of those, two shaping hammers, along with a hoist, belay bag with heavy equipment, first aid kit, double Jack, three 18lb rock bars, a lopper, three buckets, three eye to eyes, two burlap straps, two green wrapping straps, two pick Mattox, a roe hoe or two, a bar for either the two ton or one ton hoist, the feathers with pegs for splitting rocks that we drill... s

It Follows Me...

One may wonder what would inspire someone to work hard labor voluntarily. For me it’s the love of many things. It’s the passion that won’t be broken. Because there are so many aspects to such service for me, that it may seem beyond comprehension. I’d compare it to my youthful desire to enter the military as a young child. Then for a multitude of reasons only to follow through thirteen years later at age eighteen entering the Marines. There were things that followed me throughout my life. Sometimes they were questions of how I ever gave up my over decade’s life dream to become a New Jersey State Trooper. My childhood desire to never wed—to never have any serious relationships with another human being. I desired only service in military and law enforcement nearly my whole childhood. Too the extent that even one of my Marine Corps superiors expressed to me last July, “I never thought you’d ever get married. It just wasn’t who you were. You were always a loner.” I replied, “Yeah. I know.