A Field Guide to Compassion
Written By Catherine Newman
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Ben doesn't just study insects, he befriends them, invites them on playdates. No way this boy is going to squish a friend — even one that stings him.
We're off to the beach. Almost. Eight pieces of bread are lined up on the counter, and I'm unscrewing the lid from the peanut butter when Ben flies in through the front door. His face is pale, his eyes are huge, and one elbow is clutched inside the fingers of his other hand. "I think I've been stung by a bee," he says, with the kind of grave formality that makes me want to smile. Instead, I exclaim maternally, "Wow! Your first bee sting!"
I squat down to look at his face, and 5-year-old Ben smiles the shy, battle-weary smile of the hero. The sandwiches must wait while the stinger is found and removed, ice and ointment are applied, the swelling is inspected, and the story is told and retold while Birdy, 2, hovers nervously and pats her big brother on the head. "I was just walking? And it kind of — zoom! — flew into my arm and then it stung me. It seemed like maybe it dropped to the ground afterwards."
