Every once in a while when I walk on the street in the downtown core a homeless person approaches me asking for change. My instinct is to look away and say “sorry, no change”. I don’t even check my pockets because it would create an expectation that I may not be able to meet. My automatic response annoys me every time after the fact. Sometimes if I see a homeless person far enough down the road I will reach into my pocket without them seeing and make sure that I have at least two dollars to give them. Once I walk by them I drop off the coin nonchalantly in their cup.
This reminds me of the first time that bought my mom lunch for her birthday. I managed to save enough money form cleaning the house and doing odd jobs. I really liked hamburgers but they were above my pay grade. Most times when I went out I would opt to buy the cheaper cousin of the hamburger, a slice of pizza.
When mom’s birthday arrived, in addition to getting her cheap perfume (now that I think about it she never used perfume. If I think further I used to sneak into her bedroom and sprayed a little perfume on my arm. It only happened twice! Ok, maybe more), I invited her for lunch at this fancy hamburger place that everyone was talking about. I took the cash out of my drawer and put it in my pocket. Mom drove the two of us into town. She has never heard of this restaurant and I was proud of myself as I walked her in as if I was a frequent customer. When we ordered at the cash register I encouraged her to take the most expensive combo. The cashier looked at my mom and gave her the bill at which point I reached out and grabbed it quickly. “I am paying for this” I said as I reached for the money in my pocket. I was so happy that I could treat her for lunch!
When we sat down to eat our conversation was different. I can’t even explain why, it just was.
Giving makes me happy. I just need to initiate it more often. Too often I just forget…
Much love!
