Krystal and the Panhandler

The following story was shared with me by a young lady named Krystal. I am posting it here as an example of a random act of kindness in support of someone in need. (Thank you, Krystal, for sharing this.)

Hello, my name is Krystal,  I came across your blog, and I wish to share my story about helping a panhandler:

One day, my mom and I were on our way to my psychotherapy session around (at the time). As we were walking down 23rd St and heading towards 5th Ave,we've noticed the regular panhandler (he's in his 20's) and his brown Labrador Retriever. Mom had a conversation with him and things so far have been difficult for him, and I've felt a nudge from within to offer him something to eat, so I did, despite lacking time to buy him something to eat. On our way home, we saw him again and I asked him if he wanted anything from the 7 Eleven that was two blocks away from his location, and he said yes. So, with the spare $10 in my wallet, I've bought him a Big Gulp cup of Coca-Cola and four slices of cheese pizza. We gave him said food and he said that we didn't have to do that for him, but he really appreciated it.

* I didn't reveal his name to protect his identity

More on Pandhandling

This has been a week rich in good posts by various bloggers.

Among these is a beautiful post about a panhandler by Anne Bender (Panhandler) on her blog, Imprisoned in My Bones, which I have listed on my 100th Lamb site as a recommended blog. Her posts and thoughtful and touching. I recommend that you take the time to read Pandhandler, as well as the comment made there by Mary, who describes a remarkable homeless man.

Enjoy!

Is Giving a Handout a Crime?

I thought I would share the following article that was posted recently at The Responsibility Project. The content is certain to raise emotions. I recommend that readers go to the original article and post a comment there for greater effect. (Nearly 50 people have already done so.)


Give To The Homeless, Commit a Crime?
March 16, 2010 By Kathy McManus

A television station in San Antonio, Texas, recently reported that a local councilman wants to make it a crime to give money to a beggar or homeless person on city streets. Those who open their wallets would be fined.

“If there’s no money for the panhandlers, the panhandlers will go away,” said Councilman John Clamp.

But some residents say what will go away is their right to give. “I think it is absolutely ludicrous to ticket someone for wanting to help out another human being,” one person commented online. “To me, that is the same as punishing someone for wanting to do the right thing.” Another wrote, “Whenever I am tempted to pass judgment over these people I ask myself how desperate would I have to be and how far would I have to fall before I would beg? Then I hand them a dollar and get on with my day.”

“You are all missing the point,” wrote another resident who said giving cash to “bums” was ill advised. “I used to give them money,” the writer continued, “until I started seeing them in the park drinking and smoking crack!” San Antonio Express-News columnist Victor Landa , however, questioned the practicality of the proposed law by asking, “Whose responsibility is it to be the street-level charity police?”

Tell us what you think: Should it be a crime to give money to someone on the street?

How to Panhandle

I came across this wikihow that teaches people the do's and don't's of panhandling. I am reprinting here from the wikihow (am sure that the author won't mind because it was put out for public sharing and education) because it gives some interesting insights into the panhandling world, situation, and mind. My comments follow the article.

A panhandler is a person who depends on the spontaneous charity of strangers for his/her survival. In some parts of the world, begging is the only alternative to starvation, especially in the context of a poor economy or an oppressive government; in other parts of the world, panhandling is illegal because of its association with addiction and irresponsibility. You never know when you might have to ask strangers for help, whether you've been mugged in a foreign land and need enough money to make it home, life deals you a particularly harsh hand of cards (like abuse, disability, illness, war); or you become so dissatisfied with your existing options that begging seems like a better alternative.

Steps:

(1) Swallow your pride. Most people find it difficult to quietly beg for money from friends or relatives. It’s even harder to beg from complete strangers where everybody can see you. Still, you’re going to have to suck it up and be humble. If you've already exhausted the alternatives and begging is your last resort, it may help to keep in mind that in many countries, begging does not hold the stigma it does in most of the Western World, and in some places asking for alms is considered an honorable profession.

(2) Remember what you're offering. People who give you enough money do so because it makes them feel good. A person is more likely to help you if they can identify with you, and if they feel their contribution will make a significant difference in your situation. Sometimes, people give alms for religious reasons, and other times because they feel guilty for having been born with so much more than others without having necessarily earned it. The more you learn about why people give, the better you'll be at receiving.

(3) Clean up. Before you begin, make an effort to look presentable. You certainly don’t want to be smelling of alcohol, for example, but you also should comb your hair, practice overall good hygiene, and dress in clean, but cheap clothes. If you stand out, people are more likely to give you money. Wear comfortable shoes and dress in layers so you don’t get too warm or cold. You want to present an image of a hard-working, normal person who is just like the people from whom you are asking for money, except that you’re a little down on your luck.

(4) Make a sign. A simple sign on a piece of cardboard makes you more noticeable and tells your story—it’s advertising, plain and simple. Remember, you want to make people feel good for giving you money, so give them a reason: you just got laid off, you’ve got a family to feed, etc., and you need help. Tell your story concisely, and make your sign in neat, large letters. Make sure the letters are bold enough to read.

(5) Find a suitable location. Location is all-important to a successful begging endeavor, and the most important facet of location is traffic. The more traffic you can get, the better. There are two general approaches to location: you can target foot traffic or automobile traffic, but usually not both.

(6) Smile and greet people courteously. You'd be surprised how far a simple, unassuming smile will go. Smiles are welcoming, and put people at ease. Especially in the U.S., people generally appreciate a positive attitude. Then again, remember that you’re down on your luck, and you may want to play it a bit differently. Regardless of your approach, say "hello" or “good morning” to people and make an effort to notice them politely—they’ll be more likely to do the same to you.

(7) Ask for money directly and softly. You may assume that people know you want money, and most people do, but you’ve still got to work for it. Ask passersby nicely and in a quiet voice—they’ll have to listen more carefully and may slow down, and you’ll also appear less aggressive. Have something to put money in: a cup, a cap, a guitar case, a pan, etc. This makes it easier for people to quickly drop some change in. Empty it regularly so people—both customers and potential crooks—can't see how much you’re bringing in.

(8) Remember the names of your regulars. If you frequent a certain location, make an effort to remember the people who give you money. You probably won’t get a chance to know them by name (although you may), but you can recognize their faces and any distinguishing characteristics—for example, a person may carry an umbrella every day, even when it’s not raining—and give them a special greeting. Maybe even give certain regulars endearing nicknames if you don’t know their real names.

(9) Thank everyone. If someone gives you money, show your appreciation. Even when people don’t give you money, thank them (implicitly) just for listening, and wish them a good day. Doing so will make them think twice about refusing your request next time they pass you.

- reprinted from Wikihow

Here are my comments to the steps given above:

(1) I think we, who are the alms givers not the alms receivers, think mostly about our own emotional state. I wonder if we consider how difficult it must be for panhandlers, at least for the sincere ones who are truly in desperate straits, to ask for help from total strangers in public places and how awkward and worthless they must feel when few people will even speak to them, let alone look at them. Fr. Christian (Blessed Is the Kingdom) recently published an interesting poem on this subject written by Ellen Palmer in the 1990s called "Eyes." It is very much worth the time it takes to click on the link and read that sensitive and touching poem.

(2) Likewise, the more we learn about the people to whom we give money, the easier it is to give to them. That is why I like carrying God's credit card with me so that I can take someone to lunch, fill their tank with gas, or help them out in more personal ways, ways in which I can get to know a little bit about them.

3) When I put in the effort to get to know someone to whom I am giving alms (obviously, this is not always impossible and really is the exception rather than the rule), I almost always discover that we have something in common.

(4) I wonder how good this advice is. I do find those signs helpful if I am just driving into or out of a parking lot. However, I often hesitate in those situations, not knowing whether the person is "for real" or not even though it is not up to me to make that determination. I never hesitate when someone approaches me person to person on the street or in the parking lot with a specific request. What do you think?

(5) I guess I am more likely to get involved in the foot traffic location, but perhaps that is because I love to get involved: get to know the person, buy something for them, eat lunch together, or just sit and pass the time of day or listen to their stories. To do that in an auto traffic area would be very difficult -- I would have to notice, not hesitate (my bane), go park, and return. That requires greater deliberation on my part and less spontaneity and is therefore less likely to happen. On the other happen, I imagine that penny for penny, it might result in more income for the panhandler. I guess it depends on what it is specifically they need and why.

(6) This works both ways. Even if I do not have any change with me or time to stop and help, in my experience, saying "hello" makes both of us feel better. After all, would we not say "hello" to any other individual we might pass by. Why should panhandlers deserve any less courtesy?

(7) Good advice and not necessarily superfluous. If I know what someone wants money for, I could sometimes help in ways that they don't anticipate. For example, once Donnie had someone ask for money outside our local grocery store. He said he wanted to buy breakfast. Donnie bought him breakfast, and the two sat and ate at one of the cafe tables outside, California being a state of perpetual spring. Then he learned that one of the things that the panhandler was collecting money for was a cell phone because he had friends who could tell him where day jobs in our local agricultural economy were available at the last minute because someone was ill for the day; even though there was not a full time job opening, he was able to go and harvest for the day. Without a cell phone, however, he could not find out about these opportunities in time. Donnie told him to stay put; then he returned to our house only one minute away. (In San Ignatio, everything is only one minute away by car.) He returned with a spare cell phone that we no longer needed because we had upgraded and gave it to the panhandler, whose name, I believe, was Dick.

(8) Good advice. Getting to know a panhandler by name is helpful to both giver and receiver and can build a relationship. For a number of weeks, Donnie, who works at home and loves to take his daily breakfast at the cafe of our local grocery store, would thereafter meet Dick for breakfast every morning that Dick did not get a call to work. Over time, Dick was absent more and more, and finally, one day, Dick told Donnie he would not be able to meet for breakfast any more because he had just gotten a full-time job in the fields!

(9) An attitude of gratitude is good for everyone. I also thank panhandlers for sharing themselves with me, for trusting me with their stories, and for letting me help them. The rewards of alms giving go in two directions -- and maybe even in more than two directions.

I am curious as to your reactions to these "instructions." Comments?

Please, God, Give Me Another Chance!

Saturday morning during my start-of-the-day prayer time, the thought that we would be spending a significant portion of the day in Santa Clara with Doah, including going out to lunch together, floated into my head, and I asked God to send me someone to help. (I was thinking about the H2 Hunger challenge: take a homeless & hungry person to lunch or dinner and get to know the person as an individual.) It had been some time since I have had that kind of opportunity, so I asked for Saturday to be the day that it happened again.

As Donnie and I headed out to lunch with Doah, I had a very specific scenario in mind: someone panhandling, asking for lunch money. Prior to lunch, I wanted to run into Kohl's to look for a new outfit since I have lost enough weight that most of my clothes do not fit properly. As we drove into the parking lot of a shopping mall where we had never been before, having set the GPS to find the store for us, I saw a man with a card on the exiting side of the entrance into which we were driving. Could this be our lunch partner, I wondered and mentally made plans to check for him after we finished at Kohl's and before heading to Roundtable Pizza, the sign for which we had noticed upon driving into the parking lot.

My errand at Kohl's took longer than I thought because I could find nothing appropriate or that fit. Finally, I gave up. By then both Doah and Donnie were hungry. We looked around for the pizza place, but it did not seem to be anywhere near its sign but on the other side of the very large parking lot -- large enough that we had to drive there. I glanced at where the panhandler had been standing, and he was not there. Hm...

Well, there was nothing to be done about that. We went into Roundtable, ordered some rather run-of-the-mill pizza, ate it, and left.

We left the parking lot through a different exit, one with a street that had a light at the end of the block. At the end of the block, by the light, there stood the panhandler who had been at the other exit when we entered a couple of hours earlier. That took me by surprise. He held a card that said "Hello, peace be with you. Please help. God bless."

This did not fit with the image I had had in my head. I had expected to find him before lunch and take him to lunch, not hand him money. Moreover, he looked like he was not desperate, like he did not even really need any money. Although I had no change with me, I did have a spare $10 bill in the car visor that we used for emergency cash, but I hesitated to hand it over. I was focused on the way I had planned on helping, not on this new scenario.

The light stayed red a very long time. I was able not only to think about the situation but also to talk about it.

Doah spoke up. "Belle [the woman in charge of his group home] says not to give my money away." Of course, she says that. He gets very little pin money from SSI and only about $5 a week from his sheltered workshop duties. Nonetheless, he would give all of it away. I have seen him do it. So, Belle was only looking out for Doah's interests in telling him that.

While I was debating whether to be charitable to this man or not, the person in the car behind me held out a dollar bill, and the man walked over to accept it. Well, at least someone helped, I thought.

Before I had time to consider any further, the light turned green, and Donnie drove off. As we left the area, I realized, too late, that this may very well have been the person in need that I asked God put in my path. Why, otherwise, would he appear in the spot where we entered and then reappear in the very different spot where we exited? And why would the light stay red such a very long time? I was so focused on the lunch option, on my plan, that I did not think soon enough about forking over our $10 emergency gas cash. Yet, somehow, I think that is exactly what I was supposed to do, like the people in the car behind us did, setting an example that I did not follow.

I do not know why I hesitated although I could make some guesses. A small part of the reason probably was the influence of Belle's words although they really did not apply in this situation. Another small part of the reason may be something that occasionally (actually, too frequently) causes me to hesitate: I wonder if the panhandler will use the money for bad things, not good things (but I know it should not be up to me to make that judgment). The biggest part, the important piece, I finally realized is that I was so focused on my plan that I probably totally missed God's plan.

I immediately felt miserable; I felt like I had failed God. Actually, I think I did fail God. So, now I am begging God to give me another chance -- and really hoping that I won't blow it the next time.

As I was writing this post -- I started it on Sunday -- I came across a post that helped me see the situation in a different light and thus to react differently. That post was written by Fr. Christian Mathis (Blessed Is the Kingdom -- a site that is on my blogroll because I find many of the posts insightful and educative) and titled Still Hoping for Failure.

Fr. Christian had written:

"May we not let our own failures to follow Christ get in the way of our faithfulness to Him. We don’t have to be perfect Christians. It is enough to simply ask for mercy when we need it and remember that love never fails."

So now, I am going to ask for mercy, forgive myself, and beg God for another chance. (I am also going to start carrying McDonald's gift cards because that way I might not be as likely to hesitate. It seems that I may have to protect myself against my own second guessings if I want to do any good in this world.)

Note: Simultaneously published on Blest Atheist and H2 Helper.

In a Moscow Tunnel

I related this story some time ago on my main blog, Blest Atheist, but since it has become buried over time and at the same time is pertinent to the H2 Helper theme, I decided to re-relate it here.

The story took place in Moscow, Russia not long after the dissolution of the Soviet Union.

I was providing consultation to the Ministry of Higher Education, and every day during the three weeks or so I spent there I had to pass through the tunnel connecting transfer stations on the metro line I was traveling. In that tunnel, I would pass by a squatting woman, dressed all in black, with her hand held out and her head hung down. Beside her, a little girl of perhaps 3-4 years, was sometimes leaning against her knee, sometimes squatting in a similar posture with her hand also held out, and sometimes twirling around, dancing from tile to tile that lined the metro floor. Mother and daughter, I assumed. Passersby (more frequently than I usually see happening in the USA) would drop some coins or press some paper money into the woman's hand. I never saw anyone speak.

This scene was more remarkable because it was occurring right after raspad (the dissolution of the former Soviet Union); during Soviet Union days beggars were unheard of and, for that matter, not permitted. Panhandlers and beggars were a new-order phenomenon, one with which contemporary Russia would become all too familiar. What put this woman on the streets, I wondered? I, too, was unused to seeing beggars in Russia and certainly not a mother and child.

Although I never handed out any alms to her and cannot say why I did not, I felt uncomfortable each morning and evening that I passed her. The last day I was in Moscow, I was making my final trip back to where I was staying with friends and realized that I had forgotten to change my leftover per diem rubles to dollars. My friends would not be able to do that for me; they did not have dollars -- it was still too early in post-Soviet history for dollars to have appeared in the households of everyday people and too early for the appearance of those exchanges that now appear on every street corner in large cities like Moscow. Further, I was leaving at pre-dawn hours, long before the airport exchange would open, and once I got back to the USA, the money was useless. Rubles are not tied to the gold standard and hence cannot be converted into other currency outside Russia. Moreover, I had more than the amount that visitors were allowed to take out of the country so the money would have been confiscated by Russian customs with the chance of getting in trouble.

Just then, I came across the lady and girl. It was before the great evening hordes would sweep through the tunnels and carry anyone standing still past their preferred stopping points, and so I had a chance to meet these two. I squatted beside the lady and asked her why she was on the street. She told me a little of her story, much of which I have forgotten. It rang true: an abusive alcoholic husband without a job (being on the street was safer than being at home and certainly she did not want to leave her child at home with him when he was drunk) and the vicious cycle of not having money to obtain care for her child (child care had not been a problem in the Soviet days of ever-present yasli, or children's centers) and having a child with her getting in the way of getting a job, plus a depressed and changing economy where many of the traditional jobs were no longer viable. And, of course, there was that problem with lack of knowledge (how to survive in a more capitalistic manner, how to be independent, how to problem-solve) that comes with mother's milk in the USA and had not been required before the raspad in Russia.

In an instant, this mother became for me an archetype. Anyone could have been she, given a similar unfortunate set of circumstances. In fact, there were times that, except for God tossing me some contemporary manna in the most critical moment (only God knows why because while I desperately needed it, I did not particularly deserve it), I could have been she. Talking to her, I realized that I knew how to handle my per diem money. While I could have used those dollars at home for any number of things, they were, in reality, "spare" rubles that I should have spent for per diem but had not needed because friends had seen to it that I was well fed and had a bed to sleep in (although I did share it with the daughter in the family, Russian apartments being miniscule by American standards). I explained my dilemma in converting rubles to dollars to the lady and asked her if she would take them for her child. Giving her that many rubles straight out could have been quite embarrassing even for a panhandler, but for her child, nothing would have been embarrassing. The amount of money would either keep her off the streets for a couple of months or provide her with the means to look for work; I hoped she would choose the latter but have no way of knowing how things turned out. The thought that she would not simply be benefitting herself but would also be helping out a foreigner (whom Russians feel committed to help) let her maintain a sense of self-respect. I suppose the self-respect of a panhandler should not have been important to me, and actually the self-respect of a stranger would not have been. However, thanks to our short conversation, I had now met this woman. She was no longer a stranger. She mumbled something about God bringing us together for mutual help, but at the time I was an atheist and did not understand what she meant. I do now.