Compassion

There is a young man who lives in the room directly in front of me. He is a man of tall stature and lean features. Intelligent, graceful, neat, and intuitive, all encompasses a broad perspective of what he is all about. Whenever I walk into his room, a whole concoction of excellent smells fill my senses with a delightful memory of lovely events. If I am stressed, his room provides a pleasant resort to escape to from life's hard expectations. He is a patient friend, a listening ear, a gracious host, and best of all compassionate.

His name is Mason Neil.

Mason has come a long long way since I first met him. It was my Junior year, and first camp-out was in full play. I saw the man sitting on a log, chatting in a friendly manner.

The first real conversation I had with him consisted of me advising him to not hang out with girls as much. I know, I can be very nice at times.

Throughout the years, I have seen how great of a leader Mason can be. When I am tempted to violate a rule, he cautiously prods me in the other direction. He can be very bold at times, standing for what he believes even when it is unpopular.

He can crochet, knit, and design in a profound fashion. The artistic characteristics within him spill out into a cacophony of excellence that all people can find joy in seeing.

The thing that hits me most about Mason, is his simplistic compassion. He uses what he has and changes lives. The talent of writing is manifest in his life, and this he uses strongly to express his feelings: happy, sad, angry, lively, love. He loves God and writes about it. By the grace of God, people have been drawn closer to Him because of that.

What is in my hand that I can use. What is in yours?