Charity

Warning

If the word bitch is offensive to you, please do not read this blog entry, as there are several instances of the word bitch in the entry. If the word bitch is not offensive to you, please continue reading this blog entry. Thank you for taking the time to read this preamble warning of the word bitch used in this blog and thus avoiding any bitching surrounding the use of bitch in this bitchin' blog.


Now that that is out of the way...

I usually don't make any kind of charitable activity public, as doing so (in my opinion) takes away from any personal satisfaction I get from doing it. Helping others is an intensely personal experience and doesn't deserve the dilution inherent in its retelling. At least for me. Well, that and I don't do enough such activity to talk about it regularly. However, I was recounting this particular experience to a friend the other day and the hilarity of it reduced him to tears.

As he was crying and thanking me -- in advance -- for the spontaneous fits of laughter that he will now experience over the next several weeks, I remember thinking: this is probably worth a blog entry. So, here it is.

The story about to be told is both true and unexaggerated which, for me, is really saying something.

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Linda and I used to go the mass at the St. Jude Shrine in Baltimore City every Sunday. We enjoy the services there and this was the shrine where my father had recovered his faith in the months before he passed away -- leaving me feeling a strong connection to the place. On occasion, panhandlers would be waiting outside of church asking for money -- clearly relying on the guilt of people right after mass.

I have no problem with helping people out, and the little bit of help that $5 could give them is nothing to me, financially. I've learned, however, to never give someone money -- you just don't know where it will go. So, I have a standing offer to those who come and ask me for cash: I won't give you cash, but I will take you someplace and buy you some food. You'd be surprised how many people have no interest in such an offer.

But on one particular day there was one particular panhandler who readily accepted that offer. He was hungry, he said. Very hungry. He hadn't eaten in days -- and he was rail thin to prove it. He was missing at least 5 or 6 of his front upper teeth and we walked a few block to an ice-cream place. He liked ice-cream because it was soft and easy to chew given his dental predicament.

So, Linda and I walked with this man into the store, and I bought him a large amount of ice cream. The person behind the counter was clearly not happy to have such a dirty guy in his shop, but tolerated it because he was "with us". So, we paid, and walked out of the shop, with the guy behind us. He turned to walk down the street, and we turned to walk back to the church parking lot. Before he left, he turned to us to thank us for this seemingly simple gift:

PanHandler:: I'm so hungry. Thank you.
Ed: Your welcome. It is the least we could do.
PanHandler: I hadn't eaten in two days.
Ed:Well, enjoy it.

As we started to walk away, the man must have realized that he hadn't yet thanked Linda. We had just given him his first food in two days, and he snubbed thanking my wife. He was quick to rectify that situation:

PanHandler: Sir!
Ed: Yes??
PanHandler: Thank your bitch, too.
Ed: huh?
PanHandler: Thank you, and thank your bitch.
Then, looking directly at Linda, and will all the sincerity in the world...
PanHandler: Thank you, bitch.

And with that he smiled and waved and walked on down the street, his gratitude clearly expressed.

Whoever said "giving is its own reward" sure knew what they were talking about!

-Ed