Compassion
When I made wishes for Finn, when he was a baby, I wished that he would be compassionate. The other day, my MIL was here and she swatted a housefly that was in our house. Finn cried. He isn't used to seeing that happen. I will swat mosquitoes but I usually leave houseflies alone. I know they carry germs, but they still seem really innocuous to me and Finn likes to watch them. (I know, we should get goldfish or something). My MIL explained to him why she killed the fly, that they carry germs. I held him and told him it was OK to be sad about the fly. I felt sad too. That's sort of stupid, because I eat meat. It's moments like that when I'm sad about a dead fly that I wonder if I'm living the wrong kind of life entirely and if I should give up meat again. I remember once traveling in Thailand, talking to a Buddhist nun on the bus, who explained to me that during the rainy season (I think the rainiest month of the year or something), Buddhist nuns and monks do not go out "so we do not step on an insect". I love that my little boy has compassion in his heart for insects.