To Give or Not to Give...?

You can usually spot them as soon as they step foot on to the train.

They tend to look a little scruffy and worn out, walk slowly or with a limp, and are always carrying some sort of bag, an old Starbucks cup or dragging a cart filled with miscellaneous items behind them.

You know, the kind of person who looks like he walked right out of a salvation army ad.

I see them everyday without fail, some old, some young, some physically disabled, some mentally disabled and some just looking to make an extra dollar.

When they enter my domain I either ignore them or watch them make their rehearsed speech for the thousandth time. And then I watch how they walk around the train jingling their cup hoping someone will reach into their pocket and give a little something. And then I watch how everyone ignores him or shakes their head no as he passes by. And then I watch as he gets off the train and moves to the next car hoping that the commuters one over are feeling more generous today. And then I watch the people in the car resume their activities; some lost in thought, some catching up on the daily news and some resting their eyes a few more minutes before the rush of the day begins; all forgetting the sad person who interrupted the flow of their morning just a few minutes before.
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But today was different.

Today I was standing directly in front of the short, stooped over man in his 30's who trudged slowly onto the subway car. He had messy curly, black hair, big brown eyes and was wearing a pair of army pants, rolled up at one ankle, a black hooded zip-up sweatshirt, and worn out sneakers.

He came onto the subway slowly, held his worn coffee cup out, and started beseeching, in a soft, pained voice, his brown eyes filled with despair, to those around him, "Please can anyone help me."

My thoughts started whirring, "oh no, not another one. He is probably crazy, he will move soon, just ignore him."

And he continued, "I am sorry to disturb you, but anything you can help with would be great."

My thoughts continued as I was struck by a certain sincerity in his voice, " He looks so sad and wounded, this one seems much more sincere then any other beggar I have seen, maybe I should give something."

And he repeated himself as he stood in the same spot, directly in front of me, for what seemed like eternity, "Please, anything you can give would help."

But I couldn't. My thoughts kept circling around themselves like a vulture over its prey, "c'mon just give him some change," "but I don't know if I even have any change, plus if I take out my wallet I will feel like I have to give and what if I only have a $20." "Maybe he is just a good actor," "he looks so hopeless," "but what if he really is for real?"

My body was frozen and my heart was melting, as I tried to comfort myself insisting, "it's ok, someone will give."

But no one gave a cent. People blinked their eyelashes and looked at this sad man as he stood their begging, but no one reached into their wallets to give him anything.

And then I saw a flash of light, some callous person was taking a photo of this man.

And I stood there as well, my sympathy rising, watching, waiting for someone else to start the chain of giving (because often if one person gives others follow suit). But it never came.

And so the man shuffled down the car to implore the others for some help.

As I watched him walk away I didn't forget him instantly, or breathe a sigh of relief as usual.

This one had struck a chord.

An intense sadness rose in my heart and I continued fighting with myself.

And then I started arguing with G-D.

What do you want from me?

Should I have been the one to give, would that have encouraged others to give as well?

Why did I choose not to give?

Why is it my responsibility anyway?

Why don't You save this man?

Why did You let him sink to this level of degradation and embarrassment?

But I could not come up with any answers.

All I could come up with is that my actions must stem from an internal place of justice, kindness and compassion and not based on anyone else's inaction.

That does not mean that I am going to start handing out checks to every beggar I see, but if I am feeling compassionate towards someone I need to act on that compassion, even if it is just a quarter or a reassuring smile.

I won't go bankrupt, but I will retain a sense of dignity and hopefully help restore a struggling person's dignity.

And then I have done my tiny, yet significant part, and set an example for others.

The rest I will leave up to G-D.