Five dollars

  

One day last week I gave a panhandler five bucks. Something I almost never do. She was standing at an intersection in a Seattle neighborhood called Greenwood. Kitty Cat and I, having just spent $60 on birthday presents at a nearby toy store, drove past her. I couldn't catch all of what her sign said, something about "being honest" and having "two girls". I didn't care, frankly, what she'd written.

It was her face that got me. She might've been an amazingly good actress, possibly overplaying a little, but her face. Her face was crumpled. Her eyes not downcast, but sad and shocked. If it's possible for a person to look nauseated, she did.

One hand on the wheel, my other started digging through my purse. But we were two lanes away and I still wasn't sure. When our red light changed to green and I drove off, I kept looking at the woman in the rearview mirror.

I swerved right and eased us into a driveway.

"Did we take a wrong turn?" Kitty Cat asked, pronouncing it "tu-uhn."

"No," I said apologetically. "I'm going back to give that woman some money?"

"Why?"

"Because she looks like she needs it."

A lot of people look like they need it. But, her face.

When I reached the woman, I pulled up along the sidewalk, my tire hitting the curb. I was tempted to make a joke about it, but felt so ridiculous in my huge, sturdy car that I could not. Instead I held the five-dollar-bill out the window.

She jogged over to me and took it. "God bless you," she said. And, in that moment, my heart sunk. I felt like I'd been duped, though I can't exactly say why. Her husky smoker's voice? The life-hard-lived lines carved deeply into her cheeks (though those could come from misfortune as easily as decades of partying)? Whatever the reason, I drove home, muttering, "I don't know. I don't know if I did the right thing."

But in the end, it's only five dollars. An americano and a muffin. If there's even a possibility those five dollars bought a loaf of bread and a jar of peanut butter for two girls and a mom, I'm okay with it.

Comments

[Colleen]

It's always a tough choice... But you're never quite sure so I think it's best to go with your gut.

[m]

It's worth the loss. She was new on the corner, right? Not a daily "job" like that one guy on the way to Northgate. Good for you in going out of your way to help her..whatever her reason.

[Crisanna]

In situations like that, I always consider my grandmother's advice - she taught me that whatever is done with the gift is not nearly as important as the heart of the giver. Although we will probably never know what happened, the world is a better place because people like you choose to recognize and respond when you see an injustice, regardless of if it's the "best" or "most right" response.

[All Adither]

Aw, I like that Crisanna. Thanks.

[kcinnova]

I was in downtown Seattle on Wednesday. The guys there were definitely working a regular gig by panhandling. But then there are those faces... those moments...
We can't give all the time, but when you are led to do it, it is definitely right. I think Crisanna is right: the lessons are for those of us on the giving side.

[San Diego Momma]

There's a woman like that on one of my corners too.

And I think that what Crisanna said makes me feel a whole lot better about giving the $$.

[Colleen]

I think you have some very caring and intelligent readers here...

[The Introvert]

Kindness is never the wrong thing. I have a belief that God puts people like that in my path, and it isn't up to me to decide whether they deserve my money. Because even if they don't, that act of kindness in and of itself may be just what someone needs and you get to be their angel that day.

[Rachael]

I agree with The Introvert, kindness can't be wrong. I give people money sometimes because I've seen in the last few years how this stuff really CAN happen to anyone. If I didn't have such a generous family, we could have ended up with no place to live when we could no longer afford our rent. We were/are lucky. Sometimes, I give money to strangers. Because WHAT IF? It's worth the risk.

[Leslie]

Once outside of a grocery store on Capital Hill, a woman was begging, but was crying, saying she couldn't believe she had to do this. I could see she meant it, the tears, you couldn't fake those all day long. The look on her face has stayed with me for at least a decade. I went in the store and bought her a bag of groceries. She was so happy when I gave it to her, but still crying.