shame on me
Last weekend we went for a visit to my sister's and a trip to nearby Boulder, Colorado. It's an ecclectic little college town with colorful people and an artsy atmosphere.
We took the boys to the Pearl Street Mall which is an experience in itself. It's a cobblestone street lined with quaint little shops. Street performers abound with magic tricks, balloon animals and music. It's really interesting and a great place to go if you like to "people watch". But mixed into the festive atmosphere there is another side, a less fortunate side. Unlike the suburban neighborhood we live in, there are beggars, addicts and other darker elements out on the street. There are wheelchair bound cripples who can hardly speak. One man who appeared to have burn scars over most of his body had a sign taped to his wheelchair asking for money to help pay his $300 rent.
When you're out to have fun and shop for presents for your family and friends, seeing these people is not something that makes you very comfortable. You avert your eyes. Or you smile kindly and hand over the small pocket change you have. Who carries cash any more anyway? you ask youself, trying to justify your greed. And if you give to one, you'll have to give to all. And don't they get enough hand outs from all the wealthy Boulder residents?
While my sister went into a shop I stayed in the courtyard with the boys to let them burn off some energy. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a homeless man sitting in the grass. He had a backpack and sleeping bag and seemed to be in his own little world. He was pressing on the ground with his hands and mumbling, almost like he was praying. His hair and beard were gray and oily looking and his clothes tattered. My oldest son noticed him and came over to me.
"Mom, what is he doing?"
"Well, he doesn't have a home to go to so he sleeps out here."
His blue eyes widened and he walked away. It was very, very cold and the sun had not even gone down yet. I could see him thinking about it some more.
Is six too young to learn one of the hard truths in life? I wondered if I should have not been so honest.
Moments later he came back over and said, "Mom, we need to give him some money."
I hesitated. I had $10 on me and it was meant for our dinner that night. With all the holiday spending we'd been doing, I was feeling very tight.
"Well...The money I have is for our dinner..." I started to say. "Ohhh.." he said. Disappointed.
Luckily, I was able to snap out of my own little selfish bubble long enough to realize what exactly I was doing. Teaching my son that we have to look out for ourselves and let the poor figure out their own problems. As if I didn't have a fridge full of food at home we could eat instead of eating out.
I dug into my purse and pulled out my wallet. I handed him the money and he ran over to the lonesome figure in the grass. The man accepted it and smiled. My son came loping back over to me looking gratified.
"That was very nice of you," my sister told him. "He'll be able to have a good dinner tonight."
"He doesn't need dinner," he said. "He needs a house!"
"You're right." I said. It's complicated. If only we could all have the heart of a child, then maybe it wouldn't be so complicated.
We took the boys to the Pearl Street Mall which is an experience in itself. It's a cobblestone street lined with quaint little shops. Street performers abound with magic tricks, balloon animals and music. It's really interesting and a great place to go if you like to "people watch". But mixed into the festive atmosphere there is another side, a less fortunate side. Unlike the suburban neighborhood we live in, there are beggars, addicts and other darker elements out on the street. There are wheelchair bound cripples who can hardly speak. One man who appeared to have burn scars over most of his body had a sign taped to his wheelchair asking for money to help pay his $300 rent.
When you're out to have fun and shop for presents for your family and friends, seeing these people is not something that makes you very comfortable. You avert your eyes. Or you smile kindly and hand over the small pocket change you have. Who carries cash any more anyway? you ask youself, trying to justify your greed. And if you give to one, you'll have to give to all. And don't they get enough hand outs from all the wealthy Boulder residents?
While my sister went into a shop I stayed in the courtyard with the boys to let them burn off some energy. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a homeless man sitting in the grass. He had a backpack and sleeping bag and seemed to be in his own little world. He was pressing on the ground with his hands and mumbling, almost like he was praying. His hair and beard were gray and oily looking and his clothes tattered. My oldest son noticed him and came over to me.
"Mom, what is he doing?"
"Well, he doesn't have a home to go to so he sleeps out here."
His blue eyes widened and he walked away. It was very, very cold and the sun had not even gone down yet. I could see him thinking about it some more.
Is six too young to learn one of the hard truths in life? I wondered if I should have not been so honest.
Moments later he came back over and said, "Mom, we need to give him some money."
I hesitated. I had $10 on me and it was meant for our dinner that night. With all the holiday spending we'd been doing, I was feeling very tight.
"Well...The money I have is for our dinner..." I started to say. "Ohhh.." he said. Disappointed.
Luckily, I was able to snap out of my own little selfish bubble long enough to realize what exactly I was doing. Teaching my son that we have to look out for ourselves and let the poor figure out their own problems. As if I didn't have a fridge full of food at home we could eat instead of eating out.
I dug into my purse and pulled out my wallet. I handed him the money and he ran over to the lonesome figure in the grass. The man accepted it and smiled. My son came loping back over to me looking gratified.
"That was very nice of you," my sister told him. "He'll be able to have a good dinner tonight."
"He doesn't need dinner," he said. "He needs a house!"
"You're right." I said. It's complicated. If only we could all have the heart of a child, then maybe it wouldn't be so complicated.
posted by Nicole | 9:43 AM
1 Comments:
You are being too hard on yourself, Nicole. But, I agree we do get too sheltered out in suburbia. My kids are surrounded by kids who get mountains of toys at Christmas and even throughout the year. Because we don't give them toys right and left, they feel deprived. I wish I could let them see what it is like for children who really have nothing. Your son probably learned a very good lesson that day.
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