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Martha was sitting on a chair, wearing a new track suite and her sports shoes, her hair neatly collected with a matching blue ribbon, seeming a bit reluctant and hesitant. I signaled Martha to join me and she followed me like a cat being taken for a bath. We walked our way to the nearby public park. I told Martha that we will have a swift walk for the next 30 minutes. Both of us started with a slow and steady pace and Martha seemed to be doing fine, until I fastened my pace. I soon realized that Martha was way behind me and though she tried hard to catch up with me, she seemed to be tired and fatigued. Somehow we finished our 30 minute walk, followed by some stretching exercises. We continued with this routine for the next 3 days, until that fateful Monday came.
As usual, when I entered the Butler household that morning, I saw a distressed Mrs. Butler, trying to console a weeping and sobbing Martha. I was a bit confused and perplexed. Mrs. Butler told me that somehow Martha was not willing to join me for her daily walk. She said she was feeling unwell, and excused me. I came back home, felling a bit bad. I talked about the issue with my mother. When I told her about our experiences in the past 3 days, she listened to me with an understanding smile. She told me that I simply cannot help Martha until I learn to see things from her perspective. She told me that Martha was badly overweight and was not used to an active way of life, not to mention the health problems she faced. For a fit person like me, a 30 minute walk and some exercise may be a piece of cake, but, for Martha it was a big challenge. To help Martha, I need to get into her shoes and think like her.
The next morning I went to collect Martha. She was looking at me apprehensively. I greeted her with a big smile and pat her shoulders. We went to the park and I told her that today there will be no exercises. Instead we will just walk around, enjoying that beautiful morning. I
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