This I believe….
I believe what goes around comes back around. I don’t go to church on a regularly and I don’t practice any particular religion. No matter what the religion or beliefs Karma is inevitable. The effects of karma are not or bad, it’s just a natural law that I try to live by. I don’t think that God punishes me when I don’t always do the “right thing”, but by nature, how I treat others will eventually come back to me. I have seen it happen many times in my own life and I want to teach this concept to my children. I explain to them to treat others how they want to be treated because basically that’s what it boils down to. I tell them if you want respect, you have to respect others and when you are happy, you create a happy environment and others around you are happy.
There was a time in my life when my father and I did not speak to each other. I was angry with him for not doing right by me as a child. He never did anything for me with the exception of one Easter when I was six; he brought me two left shoes. I hated him for a very long time, not because of the shoe issue, but because he was never there for me. I never knew what it was like to receive love from a father. He was diagnosed with lung cancer. I was thirty two at that time and because my father was a wanderer if you will, he had no one and nothing to show for his 53 years of life (karma). He called me one day out of the blue and asked if I could help him. Initially, my thought was why should I help you when you’ve never done anything for me? Before that call, the last time I saw him, my daughters were one and three and they were 10 and 12 when I received this call. He had never seen my boys. Nevertheless, I agreed to help. I helped him obtain public assistance and I offered to have him stay with me, but he declined, so I found him a place to live. I made sure he always had food and I even took time from work to take him back and forth to the doctors. I did this because I knew it was the right thing to do. Believe me I wanted to leave him stranded like he left my mother and me but I couldn’t. A month before he passed, we were in the elevator at the hospital and I looked him in the eyes and told him that no matter what happened in our past that he was my father and I loved him. He started crying and told me that he loved me too and that one moment made up for all our lost times. That experience was conformation that Karma is real.
If you enjoyed this essay, please consider making a tax-deductible contribution to This I Believe, Inc.