Oh Dear those responsibilities.

Arriving on site yesterday I discovered that the connector for my water pump did not fit the connection on the tap. I envisaged a fair bit of carrying water back and forth to my van and using the smaller pump that works from a bucket rather than directly from the tap. Just at that a gentleman appeared having noticed my dilemma and offered me the use of an adapter that turned my connector into one that fitted.

Later in the afternoon a family appeared with a caravan and were struggling to get their caravan onto their pitch. I instantly got up to offer my aid. I did after all have a feeling of some responsibility I had been offered aid earlier and all such acts of kindness should bring about some feeling of responsibility to pass on the good karma that I felt had been offered to me.

It is a strange thing responsibility. We live in an age when people seem very familiar with their rights but seem to forget that all rights bring with them some sense of responsibility.

There is a lovely story of the art of passing the buck. We often like this phrase but the bottom line of it is that passing the buck so often means not facing up to our responsibilities.

Let me share with you a very true account of passing the buck. 

I remember visiting an old lady while I was chaplain at the hospital. The lady I was visiting spilled a cup of water beside her bed. She was afraid she might slip and fall on the water if she got out of bed, so she pressed her buzzer and asked the nurse very politely if she could help by mopping it up.

The old lady was not at all familiar with the hospital policy. The policy said, that small spills were the responsibility of the nursing staff and nursing aids, larger spills were to be mopped up by the hospital housekeeping group.

The nurse's aide decided the spill was a large one and she called the housekeeping department. A housekeeper arrived and declared the spill a small one. 

An argument followed.

"It is not my responsibility," said the nurse's aide, "because it's a large puddle." The housekeeper did not agree. "Well, it is not mine," she said, "the puddle is too small."

The exasperated patient listened for a time, then took a jug of water from her bedside table and poured the whole thing on the floor. 

"Is that a big enough puddle now for you two to decide?" she asked. It was, and that was the end of the argument. 

In the time it took for them to arrive at this position I could easily have taken a bit of kitchen roll from the patient's cupboard and wiped it up about three times. And it was not my responsibility.

It is very true that all rights bring responibilities but is it not sad that life has come to this? I can hear my old trade union friends telling me it is important or people get taken for granted. 

My own experience in life is this, no matter how often I have done things to assis others whether it was my responsibility or not is far outweighed by the number of times I have rejoiced that somebody was there offering me unasked for assistance that was never their responibility.

I am here if I can ever help in whatever way my dear friends. 

Have a great day. I am now in a new part of Spain for me and about to go and explore the environs.