instinctually

I remember my father and I leaving the Target at Independence near Idlewild some years ago, before it was vacated and refurbished as a BJ's Warehouse. We were approached by a man who asked for money, but not without a long story about being from a far away place, Texas I think, and trying to get to another far away place; I think there was some sick family involved somewhere as well. My dad shook his head no and said that he couldn't help him. I was all but ready to fork over my life savings to the guy, or at least to give him the little bit of money I had.
I remember asking my dad why he hadn't given him anything, especially since he was from Texas-which, in case you don't know, is actually not only NOT just another state, but actually an entirely different universe where people are still polite, and yes, everything IS bigger. My dad's reply was that you couldn't believe everything people told you. I persisted in my questioning, because I had seen my father give money to beggars before, and he elaborated on his rationalization. You have to use your own instincts he told me. He also pointed out that sometimes a story can be too elaborate.

I have come up with my fair share of rationalizations as well, when approached by panhandlers. I have also given away my fair share of my hard earned money to people with good stories. I have gone and bought food for those who say they are hungry, given cigarettes (and lighters) when I smoked and had nothing else, done u-turns and gone back to share what I had. I remember in a similar Target parking lot, I had just bought food for my dog, and upon leaving I came across a panhandler with a beautiful rottewiller. I stopped and gave him half the food (Purina Moist & Meaty in the plastic pouches--NOT good food btw) and some dog treats. We talked a little and he assured me that the dog always ate, often better than him. You could tell it too.

I was asked for some money the other night so that someone could drive home, they weren't sure they were gonna make it. We were only across the street from a gas station, so I went over with them and put $5 in their tank, which, with gas at $4.42 a gallon on Saipan, wasn't a whole lot. It was a couple, and that was on Wednesday night. Sunday afternoon, when i got out to the surfing spot at Sugar Dock, the female half of that couple spotted me and walked over as I was standing there eying the surf. She asked me some questions in broken English, they didn't make a whole lot of sense to me, but she eventually got to the point of asking me for help again.

I told her no. I don't know where this instinct came from, because she was asking for money to eat with. And I was getting ready to walk around the corner to get food. I was busy trying to make a long distance phone call as well, and I definitely had the thought that I didn't want to set a precedent for being a banker for this woman every time she saw me. I told her no. Then I went and got food, and when I came back, with Taco Bell, she walked over to me and asked me again. Standing in front of her with food in my hand I told her that I wasn't going to help her at that moment. That I had before. That I might again some day. But not right then. She was a little agitated and tried to convince me, and then she just seemed to become calm and she looked at me and said okay, then walked away.

Yes we do have to use our instincts. Sometimes I do feel as if I have been taken advantage of. If I see the same person over and over again, and my help is not being used or accepted, then I may be enabling...but looking at what i've done before, or might do again-I think I was a little off on that idea. Because as my friend says, right now is all we've got. I don't think I should have given her any money, but I could've offered her food. I could have offered her reiki for the lame arm that she keeps covered and cradled at all times. I could have offered her a few minutes of time and not just instinctively brushed her aside and tried to get away from her as quickly as I could. So what-I've done good deeds before, but that's no consolation to her. I don't know why I didn't even offer to help her. I thank my dad for that valuable lesson, just like I thank her for another one. Somehow, they're both right.