I have wrestled for years
with how to ‘give to charity’. I’ve donated to food pantries and barrels,
clothing and other goods gathered for fire victims, helped with fundraisers,
donated to charity auctions, dropped money into collection jars, volunteered my
time manning booths, tables, and events. So many ways to help,
right?
Through all that, I
noticed my own contributions were about evenly matched by other helpers
‘scalping’ off the top. I learned that it’s quite acceptable for full time
volunteers to take a percentage off for their personal costs, so while a woman I
worked very hard helping wasn’t out a dime, I was out nearly $100 for buying an
industrial sized coffee pot and all the fixins for hot beverages for early
morning walkers, plus t-shirts I designed and had printed (was awesome finding a
stash of t-shirts on sale for $2 each at a hobby store!), plus other various and
sundry costs to me personally, and then her ‘take’ off the top was nearly
identical to the dollar amount I’d managed to pull in from donations. And that
was only one charity event. I felt all the dis- words after that, like
disenchanted and disillusioned. Likewise, I’ve noticed volunteers in food
pantries taking home food, or volunteers in clothing drives taking home clothes.
I have nothing against people doing this if they really need it and can’t afford
it, and I know some volunteers who really did. But too many times some of
them were people I knew personally, people who *could* afford it. As you can
imagine, I eventually burned out and lost my enthusiasm for ‘charity’ work. I
began to wonder if some of the antiques I’d donated to a radio auction that
would pay for a woman’s surgery had also been skimmed. Maybe I should have
looked into making a payment on her bill myself….
My mother used to drag me around with her
taking Meals On Wheels to the homebound, elderly, and very
poor. Excruciatingly poor. Mom was a natural talker and made friends
with everyone we met, and all those people were so happy to see her walk through
their doorways. I think her happy yappiness and personal interest in their
stories was probably as big a charity as the food for them, if not bigger. Some
of them actually began to improve their capabilities because they’d get so
excited to see her, it inspired them to get up and do their laundry, or get
outside and show her a garden or hobby they used to have, and they’d even keep
in touch with her outside of the program. She started seeing those people more
often as personal visits, and even took a couple under her wing as real
friendships. And it was like that all her life, even long after she moved on
from volunteering for Meals On Wheels. She always found people to help in some
way, always took the time to chat about their lives. One scruffy bum of a guy
walked into church off the street one day and begged for someone to help his
wife, they couldn’t afford her medication and she was very sick. My mom wrote
him a check on the spot, no questions asked. She was a turning point in that
man’s life, and he and his family became forces of good themselves with that
church. It would take a book to give proper attention to just how compulsively
giving my mother was. Ironically, she wasn’t that great of a mom, and I often
got left behind or used as a pack mule, certainly got volunteered for many a
clean up job or babysitting for other people. Even after I graduated high school
and got my own life going, she would regift holiday and birthday presents from
me to people who thought she was wonderful for being so thoughtful, or tell me
she didn’t have any money to help me out because she just gave $2000 to someone
else my age who needed it. It was hard not to be jealous when I was younger, but
now none of that bothers me, and I think about how ‘famous’ my mom got for being
so kind and thoughtful to everyone around her. Personally, I’m just not capable
of being a happy yappy person, I’m all the wrong personality for it, so I kind
of feel like I’m in a conundrum when I want to pitch in to charity
stuff.
I’ve been on the down
side of life, grinding through several years of illness and disability, and I
learned a lot of things about people from that side of the coin. For one thing,
the reason you don’t see more truly disabled people running around is because
it’s so extremely difficult, even with handicapped accessible parking and
doorways and bathrooms and whatever else. I had so much difficulty just simply
walking from spinal injuries (and too much pride to use a motor cart for a long
time) that I nearly stopped getting out of my house at all, and that severely
impacted stuff like depression and anxiety, not to mention my health standards.
For another thing, you find out just how kind strangers can really be, and I was
humbly blown away every time someone went out of their way to make something
even minutely easier for me. Simply being spoken to with kindness and smiles
made my struggle to keep getting out of my house worth it, and over time helped
me make bigger and bigger decisions to set higher goals for myself. I’m a
recluse, not a phone person, not the sort for keeping friends very well because
of my asperger’s, so the tiniest kindness from strangers meant whole worlds to
me, whether I was able to effectively show that or not. Thankfully, I’m coming
out the other side of that long, dark tunnel, and I look back on what I went
through and appreciate every person who unwittingly and unknowingly ‘saved my
life’. And I realized THAT is what my mom did for other
people.
Scott and I have been
tossing around the idea that we’d like to help someone personally going forward,
as opposed to going through organized charities and volunteering for generic
donation sites. We’ve heard the stories about people sneaking sacks of groceries
onto porches, or sneaking envelopes of money into mailboxes, and we’re wondering
if that’s really the right way to do it. What if they’re allergic to the food we
buy for them? What if someone in the neighborhood steals out of mailboxes?
Everything we could think of, we could find flaws with. And we looked into
paying on hospital bills for others, sometimes you can’t just walk up and say I
want to pay $100 on this patient’s account, partly because of patient
confidentiality, partly because sometimes accounts have to be set up for gift
payments so it won’t screw up insurance, etc. It’s a mess. And on the rare
occasions that we have given money as presents, we’ve been disappointed to learn
that it all went to a new tattoo or something, instead of a bill or basic needs.
We’ve been scratching our heads for a couple of years over how to really help
someone.
I got an idea last month.
I told Scott about Sandy and asked him what he thought of maybe helping her out
this year, as a more personalized charity. He agreed that would be better than
dropping food off in a bin or putting coins in a bucket, for sure, but the next
step was how to go about approaching it. I mean, it could get weird. Having
relationships with people is like walking a tightrope, and I know from past
experience that sometimes being too nice can make everything oh so awkward.
Scott and I both suck at being personable and chatty, and I really don’t want to
make it weird for Sandy.
So this week she was
walking with me to my car (nowadays I’m more like a break for her to escape out
of the store for a couple of minutes), and I finally worked up enough courage to
just say, “Can I ask you a personal question?” Ug, that could get so weird. But
she said sure and kind of shrugged. So I told her I had talked to Scott about
the stuff she’d told me this year, and we were wondering if maybe this year,
instead of helping faceless generic charities for the holidays, we could slip
her a Christmas card. I told her I didn’t want it to be awkward, and I
especially didn’t want to get her into trouble at work, and it’s not like we
have a LOT of money, but we can certainly share, and we’d rather know what we
share was really helping someone. And Sandy was uber cool about it, no gushing
(the potential ‘hug’ moment thankfully passed without any awkwardness, as far as
I could tell), and said sure, she would slip the card into her jacket and no one
would know. And I said “Great, I’ll tell Scott then.” And that was
that.
So I guess this is going
to get a little more fun than simply putting a sack of groceries into a bin. I’m
thinking maybe a gas card, maybe a Pizza Hut gift card, maybe a little cash,
maybe a gift certificate to a store, little things like that. You know, stuff
that will fit into a card and be fun to get. I think the most awkward part for
me is I got lucky. I walk out of that grocery store with salmon steaks and fresh
raspberries, and I’m pretty sure she’d never dream of wasting that kind of money
on food. Sometimes it’s awkward knowing that she’s my ‘servant’ coming out of
that store, helping me to my car, and I’m financially better off, thanks to my
own husband being in good health. I can’t even imagine how hard it must be at
her age to do such menial work in miserable weather for so little pay, having to
smile and be nice to sometimes arrogant people walking out with all kinds of
food she can’t afford.
I think the biggest
charity we can have is noticing other people, and asking them if it’s ok once in
awhile to be nice to them. I know I have a lot of pride and don’t like people
making a big deal out of my stuff, and I think she’s like that, too. Some people
need the ‘oh you poor thing’, but sometimes they just need ‘wow, that sucks, see
you next week, thank you for helping me.’ Sometimes they just need to know that
someone cares about their story.
Incidentally, my mom used
to call me Charlie Brown, because I was always confused as a child what to do
about how I feel. Maybe it comes easy for some people, but this one took me
awhile to figure out.