Red and I went to see Christie, a Mansion resident now in the hospital, undergoing treatment for a number of chronic illnesses. She was struggling, and clearly surprised to see us. It is not clear if she will be returning to the Mansion or when, but she messaged me, saying hello and expressing the hope she might see Red again.

I could tell when we came into the room that she did not expect either of us to come.

This morning, another message:

“Thank you for bring Red to visit me. I was so surprised! I could not believe you would go to the trouble for me. See, I was always the one sitting in a corner. Your visit means worlds to me. God Bless You and Maria and Red.” Christie said she was about to undergo some surgery and she was frightened.

Her message actually meant worlds to me.

I went and sat down for a few minutes in my favorite living room chair, Red at my feet, as always. I thought of those sitting in the corner. I was one of those ones who was always sitting in a corner. So was Maria. Those are the people I feel closest to, the people who know me, the people I know, words are not necessary.

In a sense, this is why I am drawn to the Mansion residents.

They are all now the ones sitting in the corner. Few of them expect anyone to come, and many of you are reminding them that this need not be true. You mean the world to them.

This is why I am suddenly being drawn into the dispiriting politics of the nation. In a sense, the division is really about those who wish to welcome and care for the ones who are in the corner, shoved aside, forgotten, and shocked whenever anyone pays attention to them or really sees them as the human beings they are.

Many of us just want the people in the corner to go away and somehow take care of themselves and trim our taxes. That is the issue for me, compassion and empathy, it is really such a simple thing to do things that mean so much to people.

Going to see Christie was such a small thing I didn’t really even think about it, it was the very least I might do.

It took only a few hours, it cost nothing, it made me feel good and strong about myself. I didn’t even quite realize how much it might mean to her, all the better. Like Christie, I don’t think of myself as mattering that much to people.

Godspeed Christie, I know you read my blog, you are a sweet and generous soul, I hope your surgery goes well, I hope you return to your friends at the Mansion, I hope your days are peaceful and painless and full of meaning.

I will think of you and all the ones always sitting in a corner. There are people who care about you, you are not alone there.

(Friends, I know a lot of you would like to write Christie, but I don’t feel comfortable giving out the name and address of the hospital. It is okay with Christie, but I am not at ease disclosing her full name, and I  really don’t know how long she will be there or where she is going.  I don’t feel comfortable about it.  If you wish to write to her, the best thing to do is to send your messages to the Mansion, 11 S. Union St., Cambridge, N.Y., 12816, and either they or I will get them to her. Thanks)