And Goodwill toward Men

Marlyss put the last wrapped package under the Christmas tree and then stood back to admire her work. The tree was five feet tall, brimming with presents underneath. She hoped it would be a good holiday this year. God had been very good to her. She had one beautiful daughter. She patted her tummy. And another one on the way. She lived in a beautiful house. Her family was in good health. And her husband had a good job, good enough that she didn’t have to work. She could stay home and be a full-time mother.

For the most part, she felt blessed.

She didn’t know why he had to tell her. She could have lived much better without knowing the details. But he had this great need to come to her one day and confess that he’d had an affair during one of the rough spots in their marriage. They had been to therapy, but things hadn’t been the same.

For a lot of reasons, she decided to stay. She didn’t want to rip her family apart. And she loved her husband, a lot. She thought of him not just as her lover, but also as her best friend. Sometimes they got along famously since the incident occurred. Sometimes spats and fights arose out of nowhere. They’d fight about the stupidest things. But she knew what they were really arguing about—the affair she’d found out he had.

She had made her choice to stay. She wasn’t a victim; she knew that. And she really tried to let go of what happened. But it was hard and took a lot of work. Sometimes she’d look at him and be flooded with love. Other times she’d look at him and it would be like staring at a stranger. Who is this man? She’d think. Do I even know this person I sleep next to every night?

She worried it would happen again.

Sometimes her fear made her mean.

She looked at the stack of presents under the tree, vacillating between feeling sorry for herself and blessed. Then an image of the old man who lived three houses away flashed through her mind. Do I really have the energy to care about anyone except my child and myself? She argued with herself for a while and then walked into the kitchen, put on her apron, and baked for the next two hours.

When she finished the cookies, she put them in a Tupperware container and put a cheery red bow on the top. She called a teenager in the neighborhood and asked her if she could baby-sit for a while.

Then she took the cookies over to the neighbor’s house and knocked on his door. Over the intercom, she identified herself. She knew he wouldn’t answer the door; he was confined to bed.

“Want some company?” she asked.

“Always,” he barked.

She handed him the cookies—peanut butter, his favorite—then pulled a chair up next to his bed. They talked about his kids. He had three grown daughters. “I don’t get to see them very often, but that’s okay,” he said. “They’re busy with their own lives. I know how that goes. But they’re bringing me over to their home for Christmas Day.”

He talked about his grandchildren, what they liked, how good they made him feel when they called him Pops.

Then he started reminiscing about his wife.

She had died seven years ago. He had lived alone since then. He didn’t believe in any of what he called this nonsense about life after death. He felt sad and alone, because he believed in his heart he’d never see his wife again.

It bothered Marlyss when he talked this way. She believed strongly in life after death. He and she had discussed it before. But she bit her tongue and just listened to him talk. She had come over here to comfort him, not to convert him to her way of thought.

Hot tea, cookies, and conversation made two hours pass quickly. She noticed he was getting tired, and she realized it was time for her to go. “Merry Christmas,” she said.

She went home. All the problems she had before were still there. She didn’t know how those problems would be resolved. She didn’t know if she’d get slammed with a betrayal again. But her step felt a little lighter.

She had a smile on her face. It wasn’t so hard to stay away from the obsessive thinking that drove her nuts.

She walked to the stereo and put on a CD.

“Joy to the World” filled her house.

I am not naive enough to believe that baking cookies for a neighbor will solve or sort out marital problems—or any other problem, for that matter. And there are times when many of us need to back off from giving for a while, because compulsive giving nearly ruined our lives.

We don’t always know how a situation will work out. Sometimes it takes a while—a long time—for relationship problems to resolve themselves. No matter how hard we try, it can be hard to hang on loose when there’s a potential problem looming. But one of the best cures for thinking too much about if and when we’re going to be hurt again is to forget about ourselves for a moment and do something nice for someone else.

While you’re at it, don’t give something that makes you happy, give something you believe will make them happy to receive.

From the book: Choices: Taking Control of Your Life and Making It Matter

The post And Goodwill toward Men appeared first on Melody Beattie.