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Compassion is when you feel sorry for someone because of something that has happened to them.  I experienced compassion when my grandfather died.

My grandfather was a nice man; everyone who met him loved him and thought the world of him.  He was the kind of guy who, if you were in need of anything, he would do his best to help you.  If you needed a shirt, he would give you his.  We lived in the countryside where it is mostly fields and farm land.  My grandfather had many friends, and he would always go to their houses to help them with their farm machinery or to help them with getting their hay out of the fields, even if it meant putting all of our work on hold.

While living on the farm with my grandparents, I got very close to them both, but especially to my grandfather.  He and I did everything together, and he taught me everything I know about how to be a man, and not only a man, but a hardworking man who is proud of what he does for a living.  He taught me how to hunt and fish at a very young age.  We went hunting almost every day when I was younger and when I was on breaks from school.

I heard a lot of stories about when my grandfather was my age and younger.  Even when he was young, he was a kind and caring person, one who had a good impact on people.  He was still in contact with his friends from high school, and was also close to his mother.  Every night they would talk on the phone and we would go visit her a lot while I was growing up.  He and his brothers would talk on the phone and visit each other as often as possible.  The fact that he stayed in touch with all these people just goes to show that he had a positive impact on people.  The guys from his job thought the world of him, as well.  My grandmother has been through so much since my grandfather died.  I feel bad that she has to manage on her own; I wish there was some way I could take some of the weight off her shoulders.

When it was time for my grandfather’s wake and I saw all the people there and how sad they were to see him go, I felt compassion for every single one of them.  The people from his job all had to work that day, but they set up a schedule so that each one of them could take turns coming to support my family.  That day, I felt bad for everyone who lost my grandfather, whether it was as a husband, a father, a brother, a brother-in-law, a friend, or a coworker.  I also felt compassion for my two little cousins because they will never know their grandfather the way I and others knew him, and they are not going to be able to share memories with him like I did.  I will always have compassion for those who knew my grandfather because I know they all wish he was still walking this earth with us.


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