Bus Fare

When I'm downtown with my daughter and we see a homeless person, she always wants to give the person money. I'm more reluctant (jaded urbanite that I am).

Hesitant, skeptical, I tend to assume the person will misuse the money. That my contribution will be self-defeating -- merely contribute to the person indulging in his/her vice, the vice that keeps him/her on the street.

The other day, I went to the grocery store (huge store, aisle after aisle overflowing with food). A young, homeless man was sitting, back against the wall, by the front door. As a woman passed, the man asked if she could spare some change. "I'm trying to buy a bus pass." He could've been a ghost -- insubstantial, invisible. The woman kept walking.

As I neared, the man glanced at me. "Can you...?" and stopped, realizing I'd already heard his pitch. I kept walking.

I got my groceries. Left the store. Saw the man still sitting there. Put my groceries in the car. Stopped.

Thought.

Pulled a couple dollars out of my wallet. Walked back across the lot.

Handed the man the money, telling him "I'm out of work, too."

"Thanks," he said. "This'll help."

As I returned to my car, I felt better. It wasn't just an indulgent, back-patting high (self-flattering kudos for "helping a homeless guy"). It was the glow of knowing -- I did something decent.

Sure, soon as I drove away, the man could've gone into the store, bought himself a fifth. That's the caustic, cynical view. The reality is, in tough times like these, more and more folks are being put out on the street. And for people without a home, a bus pass means the difference between spending the night in a shelter or huddled in an alley.

In times like these -- especially in times like these -- humanity matters. Because, face it: our problems pale in comparison to others. Because, at the end of the day, the man at the grocery store, the woman under the El: what are they? Vagrants? Bums? Panhandlers? No. They're people.

As a great thinker once said: "By giving value to others, I give value to myself." It wasn't the thinker who taught me that. It was my daughter.