(no subject)

I have drawn emotionally closer to the poor in the last several months. I listed many reasons to my mom: (1) I will soon be living on my own, (2) it's a not-so-prosperous period, (3) I've been listening to reggae for beat when I exercise, and (4) I've grown extra fond of animals, who tend to live something like the poor. There may also have been the factors that (5) my favorite cartoonists have trouble making ends meet and (6) the uncertainty of life in poverty may make it a little more exciting than wealth. But my mom thought of a reason that should have been blatantly obvious: (7) I am deeply involved in the Roman Catholic Church. One of the few things she likes about this sect in particular is that it puts strong emphasis on charity, in action as well as in word. Maybe I hadn't noticed because it's so ingrained.

But I think I was unwise in my charity last Friday. A man at the metro was asking for a meal. I usually save my cash for musical performers, who earn it. Beggars, I hear, typically either fake their poverty or spend their collected change on booze or other drugs, which do nothing to improve their situation. This man just struck my pity more than usual. My only cash was a set of twenty-dollar bills. Well, I rationalized, he's more likely to get a respectable meal if he gets more cash. Of course, he'd be just as likely to buy a load of the usual junk, and anyway, he'd make a point to target me from then on. I gave him a twenty anyway. He probably will remember, because after a moment he said, "Damn! God bless, you hear?"

If he beckons me again, I will try my politest to tell him that I would not be so generous again. But at least I have the satisfaction of suspecting that I made somebody's day.