‘But sister, we cannot say that we will take their card then always give it back to them.’
I had not expected myself to be arguing so rigorously to kick out some of the children from the camp.
In the summer camp we organised in Egypt with the Missionaries of Charity, too many children wanted to attend. So we had to set rules to ensure that those participating did not take the fun away from the others, and that there would not be absolute chaos.
The disciplinary system we had created was mostly lenient. It hinged around taking the small cards they had with their names on them. If the card was taken and not given back by the end of the day, the child was out, permanently.
That was the basic premise.
The children, who very much wanted to be there, would mostly behave if you threatened to take away their card.
However, children are cunning. When they noticed that most misbehaviour was not being met with severe repercussions, some started taking more liberty with what they obeyed.
This was the backdrop to my insisting that the Sister in charge of the camp follow through with kicking out some of the children. I knew that enforcing what was said would reinstill some of the discipline that was waning.
‘I know Andrew is causing problems,’ she said softly. ‘But he is better here than out there. He comes from a very difficult family. We keep him here. I’ll speak to him.’
I stared at her for a while, and I agreed. If she told me that it was better to keep him in the camp, I was not going to contradict her.
I would have to tell the others we were stuck with Andrew and his disobedience.
Actions carry consequences. So too does mercy.
Our idea of mercy can easily be the wiping off of a slate. We have likely often experienced this type of mercy, especially when we were younger. Dropping an expensive vase at the age of ten was unlikely to yield a demand for the money.
If the ten year old did not pay for the vase, who did then? The adult, likely. The person being merciful.
Their choice did not nullify the damage. The vase was not suddenly repaired. A new vase needs to be bought, or, life without a vase lived.
Now a vase is a pretty dull example, but you can replace it with anything else.
Another example was Andrew. At face value, there was no cost to letting him stay in the camp. He was not taking our money or damaging our property. However, we had to use our energy ensuring that he did not get hurt, or hurt others. We had to put in more effort to get him, and the other children to obey.
Even ‘costless’ mercy has a cost.
If we reflect on the moments people had mercy on us, we are likely to realise that our actions had more profound consequences than we thought.
What we can do is use the mercy we have received to grow into better people. To use the opportunities of mercy we have received through our lives to help others.
Are we appreciative of the mercy we have received? And will we pass on that mercy onto others?
During this holy week, try to make some time to reflect on why Easter is such an important feast for Christians. What are we making of Jesus’s sacrifice on the cross?

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