Share this story
Close X
Switch to Desktop Site

A streak of compassion in a growing teen

When Anton turned teenager, self-absorption grew – but never to the point of clouding his compassion.

About these ads

My son is a handful. Active, brash, unbridled. In divulging this, I'm not violating a confidence or saying anything Anton wouldn't own up to. If my son were a nation, "Proudly Loud" would be his official motto.

But there is a flip side to his personality that unmans me. The same 14-year-old who can be heard from two blocks away, routinely forgets his "pleases" and "thank-yous," and has a dedicated desk in the detention room at school, is capable of the most moving acts of compassion.

I don't know who seeded Anton's charitable impulses, because he was already 5 when I adopted him from a Ukrainian orphanage, where life was austere and everything was done for him. But adopted children are interesting for this very reason: One doesn't know what influences they carry with them and what, in the course of years, will bubble to the surface, for better or worse.

The "better" revealed itself one day when Anton was 7. We were at a concert in a local park, where everyone but my son was respectfully listening to the music. Anton, for his part, was running, laughing, and tumbling, having found a friend in a 4-year-old boy. I bought them helium balloons, which I tied to their wrists. Alas, my tying skills left much to be desired, and I watched as the smaller boy's balloon soon untethered itself and headed skyward. He began to sob uncontrollably, whereupon Anton put his arm around the boy's shoulder and said, "Don't worry, Nathan. My dad will buy you another one." How could I not?

On another occasion a new family moved to our neighborhood. They were terribly poor, but the three children seemed well cared for. Anton and the older boy, age 11, became fast friends. This eventually led to some meaningful conversations between me and Anton about the nature of poverty and how people can become victims of circumstances.

The ensuing winter here in Maine was a rough one, with snow upon snow. Anton and Philip asked for a couple of shovels so they could start a business clearing people's walks. Well, anything to get them away from the computer and TV, so I was happy to oblige.


Page:   1   |   2

Follow Stories Like This
Get the Monitor stories you care about delivered to your inbox.