Are You An At Leaster

I recently finished reading the book, I Never Promised You a Goodie Bag:

A Memoir of a Life Through Events--the Ones You Plan and The Ones You Don't.

It is the story of Jennifer Gilbert, the founder of Save the Date, a New York-based special-events company that has been featured in People magazine, the Wall Street Journal, the New York Post, and InStyle Weddings, as well as on Fox and CNN.

It is a story of a successful businesswoman.

But more than that.

It is the story of a brave woman who overcame a vicious attack from an unknown assailant who followed her from the subway station one evening and stabbed her multiple times with a screwdriver in the hallway of a friend's apartment building.

It is the story of a woman who thought she would never know happiness again so she did everything in her power to plan events where other people would have incredible memories and celebrate life's greatest moments.

It is the story of her coming to terms with her past, her fears, and grabbing onto life and love again.

One life lesson sticks in my brain from Gilbert's memoir. After the attack, people would say to her:

At least he didn't get your face.

At least you're alive.

At least you weren't raped.

"I learned that this is what 'at least' means." Gilbert writes, "Move on. Get over it. Let's not talk about it. It could be worse, so it must be better."

I have been an At Leaster.

At least you have other children. At least she lived a long, full life. At least the cancer is contained.

At least you found out before the wedding. At least you have a job.

The list goes on. It could be worse, so it must be better.

Ouch.

The challenge I find myself facing in light of reading this book, is to offer compassion without a caveat or qualification. To offer sincere condolences, or a listening ear, or a shoulder to cry on, without minimalizing someone else's pain by adding an At Least.

How about you? Have you been an At Leaster?