I am nauseous.
I just watched the video of a tour through Donald Trump's private jet which cost $100 million dollars. The fixtures, including the seat belt clips, are plated with 24 K gold.
Yesterday I stopped in a drugstore to pick up a travel size tube of toothpaste for my husband. A young black girl stood in front of the sanitary napkins with a sale brochure and a few coins in her hand. She asked me for a dollar to help her buy what she needed. After I gave it to her, I realized that what she had was still inadequate, and that she was planning to beg from other women who entered that aisle until she had enough. I gave her the rest of the money.
She looked astonished and said, "You didn't have to do that."
I thought of her repeatedly throughout the day, and when I woke up this morning. I thought that I should have asked her if there was anything else she needed. I wondered where her mother was. Was there no adult in her life who cared for her needs? My heart was aching.
Having watched the video of The Donald's ridiculous and ostentatious excess, I now have nausea in addition to the ache.
Showing posts with label need. Show all posts
Showing posts with label need. Show all posts
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Thursday, January 27, 2011
Genuine Need or Scam?
Today we got together with friends whom we see once a year when we are in Florida. We ate lunch at the same sub shop we had eaten in last year when we spent the day together. It brought to mind the young man we had met there.
When we pulled into the parking lot at the sub shop last year, a man about 20 years old stood near the entrance of the building in apparent distress. He asked anyone who looked in his direction if they could help him. His story was that he was a college student in another city who had come to the Sarasota area the night before to party out on one of the keys. He and his buddy had partied too much, and his friend, who was the driver, had been arrested for DUI. His friend was in jail, the car was impounded and his wallet had been left behind in the car. He was in a strange city with no money, no food, no friends and no way to get back to college. His mother was in Israel visiting her brother, and he was afraid to contact his father. At least, that was his story.
We invited him in to the sub shop with us. Our friends, who were treating us, paid for his lunch. We then drove him to a bus stop where he had supposedly determined that he could get a bus back to his campus. My husband and I gave him the money for a bus ticket.
We drove off wondering if his story was true, and hoping we had not just given drug money to a con man. Questions like this usually aren't answered.
EXCEPT...
When my son was in college, he was walking across campus one day when a pickup truck pulled up to the curb next to him. A man got out and spun the tale that his daughter had just been in a car accident in a nearby village. He claimed to be a maintenance man on the campus, and that his boss had lent him his pickup truck to go check on his daughter, but the truck didn't have enough gas in it. He asked my son for money for gas.
Now, my son is one of the smartest people you could meet, but he is also one of the most compassionate. He knew the story might be a scam....but what if it was true? He gave the man some money. The guy promised he would repay him.
Months went by. My son was again walking across campus when the same pickup truck pulled up along side him. The same man got out and told the same sorry tale. Somehow managing a straight face, my son replied, "You know, I would be happy to lend you that money, if you had paid me back the last time."
Somewhat flustered, the man insisted that he had not borrowed money from my son previously.
"I'm sorry to say that you did," my son said.
The man hopped in his truck and sped off, but not before my son memorized the license plate number which he later reported to campus security.
With this in mind, we looked for the "college student" at the sub shop today. He wasn't there. I guess we'll never know whether his story was true or not.
When we pulled into the parking lot at the sub shop last year, a man about 20 years old stood near the entrance of the building in apparent distress. He asked anyone who looked in his direction if they could help him. His story was that he was a college student in another city who had come to the Sarasota area the night before to party out on one of the keys. He and his buddy had partied too much, and his friend, who was the driver, had been arrested for DUI. His friend was in jail, the car was impounded and his wallet had been left behind in the car. He was in a strange city with no money, no food, no friends and no way to get back to college. His mother was in Israel visiting her brother, and he was afraid to contact his father. At least, that was his story.
We invited him in to the sub shop with us. Our friends, who were treating us, paid for his lunch. We then drove him to a bus stop where he had supposedly determined that he could get a bus back to his campus. My husband and I gave him the money for a bus ticket.
We drove off wondering if his story was true, and hoping we had not just given drug money to a con man. Questions like this usually aren't answered.
EXCEPT...
When my son was in college, he was walking across campus one day when a pickup truck pulled up to the curb next to him. A man got out and spun the tale that his daughter had just been in a car accident in a nearby village. He claimed to be a maintenance man on the campus, and that his boss had lent him his pickup truck to go check on his daughter, but the truck didn't have enough gas in it. He asked my son for money for gas.
Now, my son is one of the smartest people you could meet, but he is also one of the most compassionate. He knew the story might be a scam....but what if it was true? He gave the man some money. The guy promised he would repay him.
Months went by. My son was again walking across campus when the same pickup truck pulled up along side him. The same man got out and told the same sorry tale. Somehow managing a straight face, my son replied, "You know, I would be happy to lend you that money, if you had paid me back the last time."
Somewhat flustered, the man insisted that he had not borrowed money from my son previously.
"I'm sorry to say that you did," my son said.
The man hopped in his truck and sped off, but not before my son memorized the license plate number which he later reported to campus security.
With this in mind, we looked for the "college student" at the sub shop today. He wasn't there. I guess we'll never know whether his story was true or not.
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