Nina A. (ESE) - On Caregiving

You just feel the need to look after someone—constantly, in fact.

Sometimes I see someone’s problems and start imagining exactly how I’m going to help them. For instance, our neighbor had a baby, and I watched the poor thing every morning searching for someone to leave the little one with just so she could run to the milk bank. I felt this overwhelming urge to help her; an image began to form in my mind of me going to get that baby formula. The centerpiece of this mental picture was my own inner sense of happiness and joy from being helpful. I was needed.

Eventually, I worked up the nerve and offered my help. I went to get the milk for about two weeks. Believe me—in my soul, that remains a warm memory for a lifetime.

Recently, an acquaintance of mine amazed me. Now, there’s a caregiver even more intense than I am! She calls me up one day and says:

"I’ve been thinking, you really ought to eat some watermelons. It’s autumn, harvest time—watermelons are great for flushing out the kidneys. You know, I’ve already pictured it all in my head: I get a man with a car to help me, I go and buy ten or fifteen watermelons for you, and then I stack them on your balcony. Oh! You won't believe it, but just imagining it made me feel so happy! If you’d like, of course, I’ll organize this for you..."

"Well," I thought, "who knows where people find their joy. Here it is—joy found in helping one’s neighbor."

Another acquaintance of mine gives gifts to almost everyone in her apartment building. Whenever New Year’s or March 8th comes around, there’s a ring at the doorbell; someone opens it, and there is a radiant, happy face holding a little gift! A gift for Apartment 15, for Apartment 17, for Apartment 11, and so on... "Wonderful people live in every single one!" she says.