Maeve

March 22, 2024

Van Gogh, The Midwife (1885)

March 6^th, 2024, was 6°C (43°F), unseasonably warm for Ottawa. Early March is deep winter here: -15°C (5°F), with 2 meters of snow on the ground. However, when I walked my dog Mika that day, the wind carried a light rain, which made 6°C/43°F miserable. I still felt the exhaustion of a recent chemotherapy infusion. I wanted to get home, get warm, and sleep.

Going down a neighbourhood street, I almost walked past Maeve. Maeve is a tiny, sweet, and 80-year-old lady. She lives in a rent-subsidized apartment near our house. Many of the residents appear to have significant substance abuse problems. She has very little; to my knowledge, she has no family. She’s out in this weather in a thin woollen coat. Maeve maintains a flower garden on a tiny plot near the garage associated with her building. It was once just scraggly grass, but she had created a border with stones, planted annuals, and diligently pulled weeds. Here she is in this weather, clearing the winter’s cigarette butts and discarded coffee cups from her plot. She’s a saint.

Monet, A Cart on the Road to Honfleur (1885)

We have a routine when Mika and I walk and find Maeve in her garden. Maeve loves Mika, and Mika loves her. We cross the street, and I bring Mika over to her plot. They exchange affection, and Maeve and I chat for a moment. Then I give Mika a treat and we head on our way.

On March 6th, I initially pretended that I hadn’t seen Maeve. I could get home a few minutes sooner and drier if I pretended I did not see her. I didn’t want to stop and talk because I wanted to get home and get warm.

This is wrong. Mika gave me a pointed look when she realized I wasn’t walking toward Maeve. She knew I was doing something wrong. (Granted, she may have been worried about missing her dog treat.) But don’t just take Mika’s word for this. Aristotle said,

We consider a friend to be one of the greatest of all good things, and friendlessness and solitude a very terrible thing, because the whole of life and voluntary interactions are with loved ones. (Nicomachean Ethics)

If Maeve noticed that I was avoiding her, she might be hurt. If she is friendless—and many elderly people are—she might be badly hurt. I took Mika over to greet her.

It’s deeply troubling that I would even be tempted to avoid Maeve. This is Lent, a time when we are asked to make small sacrifices in the name of virtue. My Lenten goal was inspired by St Ignatius, the founder of the Jesuits. One of their principles is to seek to find God in all things. I translate that to looking at each moment to see how I can serve. On the 6^th, I saw how I should serve, but I tried to shirk it. I should be willing to endure a slight amount of discomfort and pain in the service of others.

The purpose of a Lenten commitment is not to accumulate merit badges with God; God is not transactional. The purpose of the commitment is to test my character. Since I did talk with Maeve—and Mika got her treat—there was no harm. And I learned that character still needs work.