Streetcar Line
Christmas Reflection: A Lesson in Giving
A bum, a bunny, and some bread.
He was a 30ish, rail-thin, hopelessly drunken black man. In less politically correct parlance, he was what people once called a bum. The economy when his story took place[1], mostly in late 1982, was far worse than today’s: On its way down from 13.5% inflation and 21% interest rates, it featured inflation still running at 6% and unemployment at a whopping 10.8 %. There were a lot more of “his kind” on the streets in those days than now — “his kind” meaning destitute, apparently living on the streets, begging. Even so, he stood out.
I was a freshman at Georgetown University in Washington D.C., working at an internship for Louisiana’s U.S. Rep. Bob Livingston, when our man — (that’s how I’ll identify him from now on, “Our Man,” or OM for short) — first entered my consciousness. The route back from Capitol Hill to campus involved a transfer from Metro train to a bus at a stop at D.C.’s Dupont Circle. On one of those gray, dreary, late-November days that give ample evidence that winter is on its way, OM, unsteady on his feet, approached several of us waiting at the bus stop and asked for some change “for a cup of coffee.” Or, rather than asked, he loudly announced, while slurring his speech, that he needed the money. Nobody else answered — but, feeling proud of my own generosity, I reached way down deep into my pocket and felt around, first fingering what felt like a couple of pennies, then settling on what turned out to be a big, whopping quarter to give him. He snatched it without thanks and stumbled off down the street.
For some reason, the bus took seemingly forever to get there, because our same group of commuters still was standing at the same stop about 15 or 20 minutes later when OM stumbled back down the street, came right back to us and, without seeming to realize that we were the same people he already had approached — nor that I was the same guy who had just given him a quarter 15 minutes earlier (how dare he not remember!) — again announced that he needed money for a cup of coffee.
Well, harrumph. That sure as hell “learned me,” as the saying goes, about the folly of wasting my money.
Anyway, several weeks went past, and almost every time I waited at that bus stop, OM was loitering nearby, pestering people for money, stumbling around, reeking of alcohol, being a nuisance. One day, perhaps in January (it was quite cold), he lay shivering on the bus-stop bench, under the tiny wind shelter, curled into a ball, holding what looked even through its plastic wrapper to be a soggy, unappetizing loaf of bread. For the five or so minutes until the bus came, I listened as OM sometimes mumbled, sometimes whispered, sometimes said in a conversational tone, and a few times suddenly shouted at deafening decibels, the same phrase, over and over like a mantra: “Bread, but no meat. Bread, but no f***ing meat. God***n bread but no f***ing meat!!!!”
I looked around for clues about what to do, but as all the older commuters just ignored OM, so did I, until the bus came to take me back to Georgetown’s magnificent old buildings, erudite professors, and friends aplenty.
Another occasion, not too long thereafter, OM was even worse. Oh, he wasn’t as pitiful this time, but instead was menacing. A reasonably young woman stood among our crowd of commuters, and OM stumbled up to her. This time, he didn’t ask for money. “Hey, lady,” he said. “D’ya wanta man? You look like you want a man. I can give it to you, lady, I can give it to you good.”
The woman just looked away. I looked at the other male commuters. We made eye contact with each other, and stepped closer to OM, who still was standing a few feet from the woman rather than crowding into her. Somehow, it seemed that about four of us silently made an unspoken agreement: If OM touched the woman, we’d all jump him together. (Gee, how brave of us.)
OM, oblivious to us, swayed a little closer to the woman — not so much a step towards her as just a drunken, off-balance lean — and repeated something like: “C’mon baby, lemme give it to you.”
The four of us all stepped closer still to OM, nobody saying anything yet, nobody wanting to actually make contact, but all of us realizing this needed to be stopped. Slowly, OM noticed that we were crowding into him, and his heretofore slightly unfocused eyes suddenly focused on the biggest of the four of us (certainly not at my 5’8” frame). The bigger guy stared daggers at OM, and OM muttered something under his breath and turned away, crossing the street and lurching all the way down the next block until out of sight. The woman, meanwhile, just stood there biting her lip, while the four or five of us re-spaced ourselves to normal distances, all of us surely feeling somewhat smug about how well we thought we had defused the situation.
Oddly enough, I don’t remember seeing OM at that stop for the rest of that school year, and he more or less fell from my mind as freshman year and my internship both ended and I went home for the summer. I didn’t renew the internship the next year, so I had no reason to return to the Dupont Circle bus stop.
No reason, that is, until another gray and chilly day, again I think in late November (maybe early December), when I had a free afternoon and decided to go back to Livingston’s office, just for a visit with the office staff that had been so nice to me the year before and also to talk home-state politics.
This was in late 1983, and the Reagan economic miracle by now was revving up. People everywhere seemed to me (or so I seem to remember it) less glum, less grim. And as I stood at the Dupont bus stop after my Capitol visit, wishing I were wearing a heavier jacket to ward off the cold, I was surprised to see OM walking down the block — the same block down which he had exited the last time that I had seen him, 10 months before — this time coming toward us rather than away. But on this occasion OM wasn’t staggering quite the same way. And this time, although his jeans and shoes and shirt still were ragged, he wore on top of them a spiffy, clean, almost-new-looking tan plaid sport jacket. Also different this time was that he wasn’t holding on for dear life to a pathetic, soggy-looking loaf of cold bread; instead, amazingly enough, he had in his hand what looked like a hot roast beef sandwich, steam visibly rising from it in the cold air. OM held the sandwich aloft as if it were a prize, except for when intermittently he lowered it to his mouth to wolf down a hearty bite.
I noticed as OM walked right past the bus stop that he still smelled just a little like alcohol, but otherwise he clearly had had at least a temporary change of fortune. He didn’t even pause to ask commuters for any money. About 15 yards beyond us, though, his gait slowed. Another “street person,” this one white and much older, maybe 60, sort of short and stocky, stood there forlornly looking down at his own feet, not saying a word, just standing there with his arms crossed the way people do when trying to keep warm.
OM stopped. The old white “bum” didn’t even look at him, didn’t say anything to him, may not have even noticed him. But OM noticed Old White, and OM got an idea.
About the Author
Quin Hillyer is a senior editor of The American Spectator and a senior fellow at the Center for Individual Freedom. Follow him on Twitter @QuinHillyer.
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Pingback| 12.23.09 @ 6:21AM
Twitter Trackbacks for The American Spectator : Christmas Reflection: A Lesson in Gi links to this page. Here’s an excerpt:
Ned| 12.23.09 @ 7:24AM
I have thought of the ability to give and what it means to each individual quite often lately.
I think of a man who has a million dollars and gives away ten percent. This is one hundred thousand dollars. With that, you can give one hundred people a thousand bucks each. He has helped one hundred people considerably, but still he only given away ten percent.
Now take a man who has ten dollars. He sees someone in need and gives him five dollars. He has given away fifty percent, but his help is limited, and only to one person.
Who is the better man?
The richer man could give away more, even all at one time, but if he becomes destitute he can never help anyone again, hurting many recipients.
The poor man gave away fifty percent of his money but how many did it help and how much did it help? The poorer man might even say, "What the hell, fifty percent of nothing is still nothing, I might as well give it away."
The richer man knows the value of money since he has worked hard for it, so when he gives his away, even though it is ten percent it is felt deeply. Yet the poor man is hungry or needs to support a habit, and five bucks is an immediate and deeply felt loss.
Who is the better man?
One has used all his God given talents to earn more and so he can help more, but is it enough? The other has not used his God given talents to full advantage, but gives half of what he has away. Did he do enough?
This brings me to think of the part near the ending of movie “Schindler’s List” when the people saved by Oskar give him the ring. Despite all he has done he breaks down and wonders aloud if he should have done more. He could have sold his car, clothes, and other possessions and saved more lives, but he didn’t. He still kept enough to save himself. Was this wrong or selfish? If he had given to much his ability to help may have been compromised and no one would have benefited.
Anyway, enough of my ramblings. That is a great story Quin. If you are ever in a small town in Utah and see me walking my dogs, rest assured I do not just exist as a prop to hold leashes while the dogs perform the really important work of this world. I am doing my duty and also thinking of other things as well. Merry Christmas.
Margie| 12.23.09 @ 2:24PM
Ned,
Your post makes me think of the story about the widow's mite (penny) in the Bible in Mark 12:42-44.
"And a poor widow came, and put in two copper coins, which make a penny. And he called his disciples to him, and said to them, "Truly, I say to you, this poor widow has put in more than all those who are contributing to the treasury. For they all contributed out of their abundance; but she out of her poverty has put in everything she had, her whole living."
Appleby| 12.23.09 @ 7:34AM
Charity begins at home. And in many cases it should stay there.
How many people who are out marching and chanting for clean water in Africa have family members who are quietly sinking down, who may be going without food in order to feed their children ... whose spinster sister may be taking full responsibility for their elderly mother or father and faltering under the burden.
How many of the people who are reviled for Not Doing Enough are obeying the Lords injunction not to blow a trumpet and announce their deeds to the world, but are secretly and quietly carrying half the neighbourhood?
There was an elderly woman in Florida who won a huge lottery jackpot and who continued to live a quiet, comfortable life with her cats and dropped from sight of the world. Upon her death hundreds of people attended her memorial service to testify how she had helped them secretly and quietly and instructed them never to tell a soul.
It is not a good idea to assume that the person who passes by the bum in the street or does not march for Africa is doing nothing ... or the person who still has enough left for a good life is not giving anything away. At the Judgment, God will make the call.
Oldefarte| 12.23.09 @ 10:54AM
As sad and unfortionate as this story is, there are [and forever will be] millions of OM's in this world. Mostly, they somehow brought their own misfortion upon themselves; and my sympathies for them has disapated years prior. It is only necessary that society/government provide various shelters from cold and warm meals to same, nothing more. We all could become OM's, but some of us find the courage, fortitude, hard work and determination to raise ourselves up above the 'mean street' of this world [and so could have OM if he truly desired same]. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year, Quin, to you and your family [and thanks for your excellent articles]!!!!!!!!!!!
Tim| 12.23.09 @ 12:13PM
Luke 21:34-36 (New International Version)
34"Be careful, or your hearts will be weighed down with dissipation, drunkenness and the anxieties of life, and that day will close on you unexpectedly like a trap. For it will come upon all those who live on the face of the whole earth. Be always on the watch, and pray that you may be able to escape all that is about to happen, and that you may be able to stand before the Son of Man."
TennesseeVolunteer| 12.23.09 @ 2:06PM
Quin, best wishes for a Merry Xmas.
To all of the frequent posters on American Spectator: Thank you for your knowledge and wise counsel. I learn much from all of you and appreciate y'alls gracious reading of my own. Merry CHRISTmas!
Margie| 12.23.09 @ 2:43PM
It sounds like OM may have hit the lottery or something, but let's hope not. I hope he just was able to get himself a job and was so thankful that he gave the other unfortunate guy some of what he earned.
I used to live in NYC. I used to go with other Christians and give the Good News of the gospel of Jesus Christ to the people on the streets. I've run into many OM's.. what I learned to do when they begged for money is not to give them money, but something to eat or drink. This way I wouldn't be contributing to their drug or alcohol problem. They used to get very mad at that sometimes but that's the way it goes.
As to the question of giving~ Remember what the good Lord says~
"Each one must do as he has made up his mind, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver." 2 Cor. 9:7
I know that God looks at the heart, so whatever you or I give if we choose to, if from a glad heart, would be pleasing to Him, would it not?
Merry Christmas Quin (my Nephew's name too, he's a year old), and to everyone here.
God bless everyone.
God bless our wonderful country.
Ned| 12.24.09 @ 10:32AM
"Each one must do as he has made up his mind, not reluctantly or under compulsion, for God loves a cheerful giver." 2 Cor. 9:7
Thanks Margie, I don't know the Bible, but that is very close to the answer I was seeking.
Merry Christmas.
Margie| 12.24.09 @ 12:10PM
Excellent!
God bless & Merry Christmas!
Tony in Central PA| 12.23.09 @ 3:09PM
Great story.
There's another side to giving secretly, or least quietly. It easier to be charitable when it isn't expected.
Pingback| 12.23.09 @ 3:22PM
The American Spectator : Christmas Reflection: A Lesson in Giving capital university links to this page. Here’s an excerpt:
JimE| 12.23.09 @ 5:01PM
Sounds like OM robbed or mugged someone.
Pingback| 12.23.09 @ 5:56PM
The American Spectator : Christmas Reflection: A Lesson in Giving American Me links to this page. Here’s an excerpt:
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laurie gross| 12.23.09 @ 9:58PM
When i see that even in a recession, many are celebrating Christmas with excess. The materialism grates like nails on a chalkboard. It is good to remember that we have already been given our gift. Our gift is Jesus and the promise of eternal life.
Sam| 12.24.09 @ 2:06AM
So Margie that brings up an interesting question. I have quietly given money and wished people well on the streets a few times. But I don't know if I believe in God or Jesus and definitely not Christian doctrine. Does being a non-believer negate good deeds? What fate does God have in store for me?
Margie| 12.24.09 @ 12:19PM
Sam,
If you are truly concerned about your fate from God, as we all ought to rightly be, then just the fact that you are concerned and that you say your fate would come by Him.. you are thereby acknowledging Him. So, I guess you believe that He exists!
Sam, it is His will that none should perish. Remember John 3:16, the most famous verse in the whole Bible?
It says this:
"For God so loved the world that he gave his only Son, that whoever believes in him should not perish but have eternal life."
Jesus died on the cross concerning the sins of the whole world, and that has to include you!
Let your conscience be your guide.
Wise men still seek Him. Ps. 53:2
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Ned| 12.24.09 @ 10:36AM
Sam, I know you didn't ask me the above questions, but I will give my answers for them anyway.
A good deed is a good deed.
You will have to ask Him that.
ggoblue| 12.24.09 @ 11:48AM
thanks. today you made me a little smarter.
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