LJ Idol Exhibit B Week 4 If Wishes Were Horses
The almost- winter sky was still quite dark at 6.a.m that day.
I had decided to go into work a littler earlier than usual and the parking lot and streets were empty and silent. As I crossed the intersection alone, I noticed a large figure leaning in a doorway just ahead. My imagination was racing. Stranger. Danger. Fear stifled my thinking as I pulled my coat around me to press forward toward the hospital and safety.
“Good morning, ma’am. Can you spare some change for a coffee?”
I looked straight ahead, already steeling myself to totally ignore him and continued my two block walk to work at the hospital. As I passed, I realized he was a somewhat disheveled elderly man with bushy white hair peeking out from a dark knit hat. He had rosy cheeks and a gentleness about him. He did not threaten me in any way.
Later in the day, I could not shake the vision of a lonely old man standing on the street corner greeting passersby and asking for help. Bottom line, I felt horrible that I had chosen to not give him some money. I wondered about my feelings of guilt.
I asked some co-workers if they had ever been approached by the guy. Several people seemed to know who I was talking about. I got quite a range of responses, in fact.
“Oh yeah. That’s Steve.” He must live around here somewhere. He’s always hitting people up for money.”
“I used to give him money sometimes. I just try to avoid him now.”
“Tell me you didn’t give him money!”
“Him? Sure. Just another drunk on the sidewalk, I expect.”
“He’s a bum. Ignore him.”
“I’d call the cops on him if I had time.”
“You have to be careful. Give them an inch, they’ll take a mile, you know.”
“That guy…he stands around when people are coming and going from work. He should be ashamed.”
I was surprised to hear so many negative comments and wondered where compassion and mercy fit in.
I learned that some generous, compassionate people don't give money to people like Steve on principle because they don't know anything about his actual neediness, his character or his intentions for using the handout.
Some feel that giving to people begging on a street corner encourages an activity that degrades the community environment and might result in even more people looking for handouts. I learned that some cities, concerned about panhandlers who solicit in a menacing way, have banned begging altogether.
Other people talked about more global choices for giving money like a local food bank or the homeless shelter as a way to assuage their guilt at passing by the common beggar.
I realized this certainly was a social issue with a lot of ramifications. I decided that I needed to come to terms with what to do, myself.
Remembering the values instilled in me as a child, like Charity Begins at Home, I had little doubt of what I would do the next time, if there was one. In my reasoning, this town I worked in was my home and it was his, too. I had a real face to relate to and even a name when I encountered Steve from time to time in the future. He may or may not have been homeless but he became for me a symbol of “There, but for the grace of God, go I.”
For the next several months, when I happened to see Steve on the street corner and he greeted me with his warm and genuine ‘Good morning, ma’am,’ I smiled and said ‘Good morning’ right back and passed him the dollar that I kept in my coat pocket, just in case he would be there. A dollar. I could have just wished him a happy morning too and walked on but in my own small way, I wanted to give him something tangible to hang on to.
It was important to me to help out another human being without any judgment as to how he might use it. It was a simple gesture of kindness because I was there and he asked for help. The day before Christmas that year I gave him a twenty-dollar bill and felt really blessed that I was able to do it.
That was all twenty- plus years ago.
I wonder what ever happened to Steve. I’m sure he’s passed on by now, but there must have been plenty others to take his place on the corner. I don’t advocate giving money to beggars on the street. I think everyone needs to figure out their own motivation and behaviors regarding such things, but the Golden Rule still seems a good standard to live by.
I had decided to go into work a littler earlier than usual and the parking lot and streets were empty and silent. As I crossed the intersection alone, I noticed a large figure leaning in a doorway just ahead. My imagination was racing. Stranger. Danger. Fear stifled my thinking as I pulled my coat around me to press forward toward the hospital and safety.
“Good morning, ma’am. Can you spare some change for a coffee?”
I looked straight ahead, already steeling myself to totally ignore him and continued my two block walk to work at the hospital. As I passed, I realized he was a somewhat disheveled elderly man with bushy white hair peeking out from a dark knit hat. He had rosy cheeks and a gentleness about him. He did not threaten me in any way.
Later in the day, I could not shake the vision of a lonely old man standing on the street corner greeting passersby and asking for help. Bottom line, I felt horrible that I had chosen to not give him some money. I wondered about my feelings of guilt.
I asked some co-workers if they had ever been approached by the guy. Several people seemed to know who I was talking about. I got quite a range of responses, in fact.
“Oh yeah. That’s Steve.” He must live around here somewhere. He’s always hitting people up for money.”
“I used to give him money sometimes. I just try to avoid him now.”
“Tell me you didn’t give him money!”
“Him? Sure. Just another drunk on the sidewalk, I expect.”
“He’s a bum. Ignore him.”
“I’d call the cops on him if I had time.”
“You have to be careful. Give them an inch, they’ll take a mile, you know.”
“That guy…he stands around when people are coming and going from work. He should be ashamed.”
I was surprised to hear so many negative comments and wondered where compassion and mercy fit in.
I learned that some generous, compassionate people don't give money to people like Steve on principle because they don't know anything about his actual neediness, his character or his intentions for using the handout.
Some feel that giving to people begging on a street corner encourages an activity that degrades the community environment and might result in even more people looking for handouts. I learned that some cities, concerned about panhandlers who solicit in a menacing way, have banned begging altogether.
Other people talked about more global choices for giving money like a local food bank or the homeless shelter as a way to assuage their guilt at passing by the common beggar.
I realized this certainly was a social issue with a lot of ramifications. I decided that I needed to come to terms with what to do, myself.
Remembering the values instilled in me as a child, like Charity Begins at Home, I had little doubt of what I would do the next time, if there was one. In my reasoning, this town I worked in was my home and it was his, too. I had a real face to relate to and even a name when I encountered Steve from time to time in the future. He may or may not have been homeless but he became for me a symbol of “There, but for the grace of God, go I.”
For the next several months, when I happened to see Steve on the street corner and he greeted me with his warm and genuine ‘Good morning, ma’am,’ I smiled and said ‘Good morning’ right back and passed him the dollar that I kept in my coat pocket, just in case he would be there. A dollar. I could have just wished him a happy morning too and walked on but in my own small way, I wanted to give him something tangible to hang on to.
It was important to me to help out another human being without any judgment as to how he might use it. It was a simple gesture of kindness because I was there and he asked for help. The day before Christmas that year I gave him a twenty-dollar bill and felt really blessed that I was able to do it.
That was all twenty- plus years ago.
I wonder what ever happened to Steve. I’m sure he’s passed on by now, but there must have been plenty others to take his place on the corner. I don’t advocate giving money to beggars on the street. I think everyone needs to figure out their own motivation and behaviors regarding such things, but the Golden Rule still seems a good standard to live by.