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Beggars and Choosers… Should we place conditions on our charity?
Story Created: Sep 2, 2011 at 10:56 PM ECT
Story Updated: Sep 2, 2011 at 10:56 PM ECT
Some time ago, standing in line at a Maraval pizzeria, I was so engrossed in my own thoughts that I didn't notice the young woman - a girl really, standing practically in my armpit, mumbling. As I looked over my shoulder she took a half step back and whispered, "Yuh could help me out? I just tryin' to make taxi fare home." A bit uncomfortable with her proximity, I took one step forward and asked, "Where is home?" She replied, "South, deep south." Curiosity peaked, I asked again; "You came all the way into POS, without enough money to get home?" She hesitated for a moment and then offered, "Ah did come to check out a job but it didn't work out." I enquired further. "And how much will get you home?" Visibly annoyed she sucked her teeth and said, "Look, just… anything you could spare nah." Perhaps it was the change in her tone or the fact that I perceived her checking out her next mark, a senior citizen who had just walked in; but with a detachment that I've learned to turn on and off like a switch, I said, "Sorry, can't help." Later that evening I thought of the 'girl'. I wondered who else had she tackled, had she made it home? In a moment of introspection I thought about how often I had not acceded to a solicitation because I had automatically run through a mental checklist of conditions which I believed all alms-seekers should satisfy, and which she (South girl) because of her 'attitude' had failed to meet?
Reflecting on it, I recall how I came to create the criteria I applied universally to such scenarios. It was due in part to the amputee beggar in Port of Spain, who caught me off guard one afternoon at the traffic lights, at the junction of Park and Frederick Streets. Utterly destitute, he approached with his lone arm outstretched, his long, dirty fingernails threatening like talons on a paw. Moved by his condition, I reached for a pack of biscuits, 'vital supplies' tucked among the top-up groceries I had just purchased and had set next to me in the front passenger seat. I placed the pack in the indigent's palm and was about to enjoy that warm, fuzzy feeling attendant to doing a good deed when I heard, "And what to wash this down with…spit?" "Excuse me?" I asked, incredulous. "Gih me dat bottle ah juice (in the bag) nah?" He demanded. "What the firetruck…" I fumed; but before I could give him another piece of my mind, the light had changed to green and my beggar had proceeded north, biscuits in hand. Well, colour me red with ire: I had just had my first encounter with a choosy beggar. It was then and there in uptown traffic that I resolved to compile a list of eligibles: - those 'beggars' who would be future beneficiaries of my charity. Topping the list were children: followed by the disabled, next - anyone with a physical deformity, and finally, older folk in general. Excluded from the list were (once discernable) the mentally unhinged and young, able-bodied men and women who could be pressed to earn their bread.
Mind you, I know people who steadfastly refuse to give alms to anyone because their (tortured) reasoning is that all indigents are drug users and any help given will go into a vein or up a nostril. While I don't subscribe to the latter view, I will admit that I have remonstrated with my mother for emptying the pantry every time someone stopped at our front gate begging for food. I would reproach her saying, "You're just encouraging them in bad habits. Let them do something in the yard for the food." My mother, bless her big, compassionate heart would turn to me and say, "There but for the grace of God go I…or you. There are no conditions on my charity." That stance was a sticking point for me because I knew that in some respects my mother was right. Yet, when I encountered a bogey, like the boy outside the grocery in Valsayn, who stopped me on my way out and begged for something, anything to eat; and I handed him the quarter rotisserie chicken I had purchased for my lunch; which he handed back to me and said, "Thanks tanty, but I doh deal up in dead…yuh could spare some cash?" I was right back at par asking; why shouldn't we have conditions for, and pick and choose from among those who 'beg' and at times even prey upon our compassion? I suppose for me the question arose because on some level I did feel 'ah-how' about my policy of selective disbursement, and was seeking an intermediary for my conscience because when compared with my mother, I suspected that there may have been less mercury in my moral barometer.
Then sometime later, the arbiter came in the form of the bag boy (at the grocery); whom I tipped twenty dollars, and then saw take it from his pocket and without batting an eyelid, gave it to a hapless hobo (sitting) on a crate nearby. From that gesture came some clarity. You see, all along I had been making this about me. I had substituted 'conditions' for judgment; when at the end of the day it was/is really only about 'the need'. Thing is, the palm extended, whether attached to young or old, disabled or able-bodied could, even with the Grace of God, by accident of birth or calamity of circumstance, have been me. So the next time I'm asked by anyone, "Miss yuh could help me out?"…there is no hesitation, no checklist, no conditions to satisfy: just a gentle aide memoire… that he or she gives twice who gives quickly.
DFC wrote:I begged in the street once when I was in a foreign country. I was stranded, No one speaking english, no $ in my pocket, and its due to random strangers charity that I got to get home.
Stephon. wrote:Bless your heart.
Stephon. wrote::lol: lolwtf? how about no
Give a man a fish, feed him for a day; teach a man to fish, feed him for a lifetime.
rfari wrote:i doh fall for the tricks. some like to brace you outside food outlets or the grocery for money to buy something to eat. steups, you coulda ask me that on my way in homie. small thing, i go back in side and buy dem a snack and a drink. i not gonna give you money to buy drugs homie unless i frigging selling it. and doh beatup too cus that go be the last time you get sh.it from me.
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