Sandry showed compassion like she did everything else: brightly, determinedly, unashamedly. She didn't care who knew if she had passed a coin to an orphaned child; or rather, who didn't. And the people of Summersea, or those who saw her secretly slipping a sweet into a child's palm, understood that. Sandry taught Tris, Daja and Briar what it was to be compassionate as an example.
Tris showed compassion like she did almost nothing else: hesitantly, haltingly, self-consciously. She didn't like people watching when she gathered up hurt birds, or tended Little Bear's wounds from his fights. And the people of Cheeseman Street, or those who thought to find the one who fed the sparrows, noticed that. Tris taught her Sandry, Daja and Briar what it was to be compassionate as a choice made.
Daja showed compassion like she could not imagine doing otherwise: frankly, subtly, directly. She was matter-of-fact when she spoke with their neighbors, offering them worked metal in return for a few days of work. And the workers of the city, or those who listened for gossip and news, heard of that. Daja taught Tris, Briar and Sandry what it was to be compassionate as second nature.
Briar showed compassion like he didn't know what it was like to do otherwise: ungrudging, carefully, perceptively. He could remember being hungry on the streets, with finely dressed women walking past, and begging procuring no coins, no food, no treats. And the poorest of Summersea, who needed compassion most, empathized with that. Briar taught Sandry, Tris and Daja what it was to be compassionate as a gift to themselves.