Laugh and the world laugh with you...

"Laugh and the world laughs with you," goes the opening line of a poem by Ella Wheeler Wilcox, a journalist and popular American poet in the late 19th and early 20th century. While she is not well known today, the opening line of her poem, Solitude, is still recognized. “Laugh and the world laughs with you…” What is it about laughter that entices us? Laughter is said to be a universal language. When you hear laughter, you're curious as to why people are laughing. Did someone just tell a funny story or joke? Is a young child acting cute for his grand parents? All kinds of things make us laugh and when we hear laughter, we are drawn to it. When you walk up to co-workers or a group of friends who are giggling, you want to know, “What’s so funny?” When we hear others laugh, we want to join the crowd - we want to laugh too. When we hear someone burst out laughing in public – we sneak a quick peek their direction to see what was so funny - we may even want to get in on the joke, but the bottom line is we enjoy it when people laugh. So the first part of Wilcox's line rings true – “Laugh and the world laughs with you”.

But what about the second part of the line - "weep and you weep alone"? What is it about weeping that isolates us? Maybe a little background on why Wheeler wrote the poem will help. Wheeler was traveling on a train to the governor’s inaugural party, when she noticed a young woman on the train was crying. The woman was sitting all alone, so Wheeler went over and sat next to her to console her. When Wheeler arrived at the party, she was so affected by the young widow’s grief that she wondered how she could possibly enjoy the party. Later that evening, after her mood had lightened, she caught a glance of her cheerful face in a mirror and recalled the grieving widow. It was at that moment she conceived the opening line, "Laugh and the world laughs with you, weep and you weep alone”.

Most of the time our tears fall in seclusion, because we tend to withdraw and bear our sorrows alone. However, the author did not isolate herself from the woman’s tears; instead she sat next to the woman and comforted her. This act of comfort and others like it demonstrate compassion. Instead of separating ourselves from the one who is weeping, we demonstrate compassion by comforting them with our presence.

Compassion is one of the values that make up the culture of the St. Luke's family. As hospital chaplains, people expect us to be compassionate. It’s what we do. But I see compassion put into practice every day by those who serve our patients. I notice it in the actions of the medical staff that care for upset patients in the Emergency Department. I glimpse it in the eyes of nurses that hold crying infants in NICU. I see it in the understanding shown to families awaiting news about their loved ones in Critical Care waiting rooms. I see it as the transporters gently move patients through hallways and up and down elevators for surgeries and procedures. Everywhere I look, I see compassion in practice. Compassion says to those that are hurting, “I care”. Compassion doesn’t demand great deeds to be beneficial, even a cup of cold water given to a stranger is recognized as an act of kindness.

As you walk the halls of St. Luke’s this week, look for two things… the numerous acts of compassion offered by our staff to those in need and opportunities to extend compassion by your presence and care for others.