October 31, 2007

Trying Not to Judge

I had just scored a major bargain in the housewares section at Marshalls and was lost in thought about where I would place my finds to best enhance my decorating scheme. So, when the frantic pleas of "Ma'am, do you have fifty cents? Ma'am, ma'am, fifty cents please?" reached me in the parking lot, they didn't register right away. When they did, and I heard someone running up behind me as I walked to my car, my self-defense training kicked in. I prepared myself to abandon my cart, jump in the car and lock the door. I'm not proud of this reaction, but ever since an attempted purse-snatching by someone asking for directions, I'm wary of being approached by strangers.

He was moving faster, his questions rapid-fire now, and I knew I couldn't out-run him. I was trapped. I whirled around, doing a quick scan of the parking lot for people who might help me, or at least be witnesses.

There was my supposed assailant, a young man who couldn't have been more than 5' 5''. When he saw that he had my attention, he turned and motioned to someone. Two small children joined him and he repeated his request, "Please ma'am, do you have fifty cents?" He pulled his children in close to him and looked me in the eye. "We are hungry," he said.

Two thoughts ran through my head simultaneously. First, the one that will be a topic of discussion during my next trip to the confessional, was: How can a man exploit his children like that? Is this what he wants to teach his children-how to beg?

My second thought, the one that should have appeared first, was to empty my wallet.

As the angel and the devil on my shoulders duked it out, I noticed a woman in the background. She was watching intently. She was obviously the mother of these children and she was at least seven months pregnant.

To stall for time, I asked the guy, "What good will fifty cents do you? What can you do with that?"

He looked at the ground. "To tell you the truth, ma'am, we are homeless. I need money to feed my family."

I dug for my wallet. I had a twenty and three ones. I started to pull them out, but the devil on my shoulder said, "This guy looks able to work." I handed him the three ones and he almost fell over with gratitude. He thanked me copiously. He made his children thank me. Out of the corner of my eye I saw his wife sit down heavily on a curb.

I drove off, feeling uneasy. Something had stopped me from giving him the twenty. I brooded about it the rest of the day, as I sat in my comfortable home under the new velvet throw I had bought on sale for the same price as a meal for his family.

I suspect that people more highly evolved than I have figured out how to be compassionate without judgment, to give freely of what they have to those who need it without a little voice saying, "There are plenty of jobs available-why isn't he working?" or "Don't give him any money-he'll just spend it on booze."

I have a way to go, but I'm working on it.

* * *
Mary is speaking Nov. 14 on the topic "How to figure out what you want to be when you grow up, even if you're retired." E-mail mary@maryhanna.net for details about this free event.