About mercy


Last year I had a misfortune. I walked along the street, slipped and fell. I fell down unsuccessfully, worse and nowhere: I broke my nose, my hand jumped out of my shoulder, I fell with my whip. It was about seven o’clock in the evening. In the center of the city, on Kirovsky Prospekt, near the house where I live. With great difficulty I got up, wandered to the nearest porch, tried to calm the blood with my handkerchief. Where I was there, I felt that I was holding a shock state, the pain rolled up more and more and I had to do something quickly. And I can not speak, my mouth is broken. I decided to turn back, home. I walked along the street, I think that without staggering.

I well remember this way about four hundred meters. There were many people on the street. A woman with a girl passed by, a couple, an elderly woman, a man, young guys, all of them looked at me curiously at first, and then looked away, turned away. If anyone on this path approached me, he asked me what

was wrong with me, whether I should help. I remembered the faces of many people, apparently with unconscious attention, a heightened expectation of help. The pain was confusing, but I realized that if I lay down on the sidewalk, they would calmly step over me, bypassing me. We must get home. So no one helped me.

Later I thought about this story. Could people take me for a drunk? It seems that no, it hardly made such an impression. But even if they were mistaken for a drunk – they also saw that I was all in cro-pi, something happened – fell, hit, – why did not they help, they did not ask at least what was the matter? So, to pass by, not to get involved, not to waste time, effort, it does not concern me “became a familiar feeling?” I bitterly remembered these people, at first I was angry, accused, I was perplexed, then I began to remember myself. , not to get involved – and her? I was.

By stating himself, I understood how common this feeling became in naked life, how it warmed up, imperceptibly ingrained. I’m not going to announce another complaint about the spoiling

of morals. The level of decline in our responsiveness caused, however, “to think about it.” There is no one to blame: who to blame? I looked back – I could not find the reasons for the sight. I was thinking about the front time when in the hungry trench life of life it was ruled out to pass by him at the sight of the wounded. part, from the other – it was impossible that someone turned away, pretended not to notice, helped, dragged themselves, tied up, drove it in. Someone, maybe, violated this front-line life, so there were deserters, and crossbows, but not about them, we are now – yasiznennyh main rules of the time.

I do not know the recipes for manifesting the mutual understanding that is necessary for all of us, but I am sure that only concrete outlets can arise from our common understanding of the problem. One person – I, for example, – Monset only beat this alarm bell and ask everyone to imbue with it and think about what to do so that charity warms our lives. (439 words) (According to DA Granin, from the essay “On Charity”)


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About mercy