I’m haunted by an experience this morning outside the grocery store. In a hurry to move the purchased food from my cart into my car, I didn’t notice the middle-age woman until she walked over and stood beside me, close enough to touch me.
“I want food,” she said in broken English, barely in a whisper.
I was startled that she stood so close, and I wasn’t sure I heard her correctly.
“Pardon me?” I asked.
She wore a cultural dress and head covering, but didn’t make eye contact. Immediately I felt compassion for her. Then I saw him. A man stood a few cars away in the shadow of some trees. He was watching us. He was dressed in a white tunic and appeared healthy and able-bodied. I admit that I instantly profiled him, and compassion changed to caution. I looked around but didn’t see any security, only several women alone loading groceries into their cars.
I could have handed her the chicken, soup, bread, and cheese I had purchased. But I didn’t. Because of the man.
I said, “I’m sorry.” Then I locked the car, returned the cart to the store, and reported the incident to the customer service staff. By the time I returned to my car, the couple was gone.
Since then, my mind has been whirling with questions. Were they really hungry? Was she on an assignment? Would he punish her for not getting food from me? Did other women freely give some of their food and not think twice? Did I read and watch too much news?
Being approached in a parking lot in quiet southern Idaho was a new experience for me. Law enforcement officials remind citizens not to give to people who ask for money because there are shelters and social service programs that can help those in need. I donate to charities, but only to established organizations such as the local Food Bank, Dress for Success, the Women’s and Children’s Alliance, and the Cabin Literary Center.
Last year, I donated $2,000 to the Wassmuth Center for Human Rights so 200 local school children could see the documentary “He Named Me Malala” about Malala Yousafzai, a 15-year-old school girl in Pakistan who advocated for education for girls. Terrorists attempted to kill her for her beliefs but she survived a gunshot to the head and now leads a global campaign for girls’ education as co-founder of the Malala Fund. For her brave advocacy, she received the Nobel Peace Prize at age 17.
The film was produced by acclaimed documentary filmmaker Davis Guggenheim, and I attended a premiere showing in New York last July. The film captures the strength and resilience of one girl who is destined to improve opportunities for girls and women. In other parts of the world, girls are being murdered, tortured, and poisoned just for going to school, and I agree with Malala that it’s time we placed a priority on education for girls. Education is freedom.
Still, I’m haunted by the image this morning of the meek woman asking for food. As a Christian, I wonder what would Jesus do? As an advocate for female education, I ask what would Malala do? I’m sure both would offer groceries, take her by the hand, and show her the way to freedom. Then she could choose to feed herself or go back to the stern figure lurking in the shadows.
The next time a woman asks for groceries, I’ll be better prepared to share mine without question or judgement. But, I believe this woman hungered for much more than I had in the cart.
Thank you for sharing this poignant story. You are not alone, as there are times I wish I had approached a similar situation differently. In the end, all we can do is our best and learn from it. I have many times over.
Elaine — I understand your conundrum. I wrote a piece about this in the past couple of weeks. I adopted a philosophy that has served me well. It is simply “Always Give”. It takes the guesswork and anxiety out of this issue every time. Because the issue is not in the intent or end result of the recipient — it is in the charity of the giver.
I used to wrestle with this. What is that lady going to do with the dollar I gave her? Is she going to buy drugs or alcohol? Is he lying to me? That really is not the issue for the giver to worry about. We can not control the actions of others, only ourselves. The mitzvah is in the GIVE. So if someone asks…….I give…..every time. I have given away my last fifty cents.
I can hear my Mom’s words echoing in my head, “God loves a cheerful giver.” Interesting how it says nothing about God loving a thankful receiver! I don’t know if this helps you, but this philosophy has lifted a heavy burden from my shoulders. Good luck!!
Eloquent message, Elaine, and I am not referring to your words, but rather your thoughts and feelings. I instantly felt a flare of anger at the man lurking in the shadows. Was he putting her out in the parking lot, forcing her to ask for food? What would happen to her if she refused? Stereotypes, yes. Even when we don’t want to go there, our minds do it for us. We are wary, uncertain, not sure what to do. I have been approached in parking lots, in Boise, and in other cities. Sometimes I offer food, sometimes money, and sometimes I mumble something, lock my door and drive off. No matter what I do, I have misgivings. It’s complex. Our human nature wants to share with them whatever we have, our educated self says listen to the news. You already donate to charities, so let them deal with this situation. Our cynical side may say that there is help available at shelters if the person isn’t on drugs or using. And if they are, then you’re just contributing to their habit. Since my mind is clearly confused, I now defer to my heart, and it always says, give. If I must err, and I am so good at erring, I’m going to go with my heart, despite the protests and logical arguments from my mind. I’d rather err on the side of being a pushover, softy, bleeding heart. I may still be wrong, but my heart is okay with that.
A long time ago I read a book by Hugh Nibley called Approaching Zion. It was a powerful book of sharing and giving.. I fell short on every level and shaken by my lack of compassion and care. I regularly contribute money and my time….but my heart wasn’t very pure. There was one thing I read in the book that stayed with me. He wrote, “Give, just give. The onus is on them with what they do with the money after you make the gift.” I no longer had to worry…. Ijust give, I give to those on the side of the street, outside the store, anywhere. I don’t give a lot, sometimes I just give food. But it is something.
Good on you, Donna!
I always have a packet of soda crackers in my car for situations like this. While it is not a good practice to give to beggars because it encourages them, but turning away knowing that you could help is very traumatic, too.