Sometimes I have to believe that the woman who stops me on the street and asks for $.85 or a bus token is really going to use the dollar I just gave her to get home. I can’t always refuse, to turn down what seem to be heartfelt requests for help. I like to think that my internal gauge leads me in the correct direction, allowing me to supply little bits of aid where they are needed. But I also know that my intuitive reaction to help or keep walking may not always be right, and that the seemingly honest-eyed woman who just walked away with my dollar could now have enough to make up the price of a bottle or a baggie, which will take her into another world.
But I can’t always say no, and so yesterday I said yes, and gave away a dollar. It seemed like a cheap price for a little hope.
two weeks ago i was walking down 15th street around chestnut and there was an older af-am woman. begging for change. i was expecting the same when i walked by her. but instead, she went, “i like your hair.” she was smiling at me when i looked at her. i thanked her, and found myself smiling walking off. it was one of the small-but-super moments of my life. -G.
i like the last sentence in this one marisa. and i know the feeling…
When I give them a dollar I tend to find them, five mins later, with a brown bag…
I hope she was honestly going home…