The other night, a woman approached Tee Jay in Lowe's and asked his many opinions on what type of drill she should buy, if each drill was battery-operated or electric, if extra bits would need to be purchased. During this exchange, Casey provided her own thoughts (usually just a shy, turning-her-head-away "no" when the woman directed the conversation her way). When Casey asked, "What's your name?" the woman responded with "Linda - but you know, you really shouldn't talk to strangers..."
Okaaaaaay, LINDA. Technically, you're correct. Casey shouldn't talk to strangers. And as her parents, Tee Jay and I should definitely be teaching her that lesson. But where are we supposed to draw the line? Where do we go past the limit of being friendly and enter the realm of "this person is a stranger who shouldn't be spoken to"?
I mean, first of all, it was Linda who started talking to Tee Jay in the first place - it was she who came up to a stranger and asked for his advice. Secondly, Casey with with her father. It wasn't like she was wandering by herself through the hardware aisle, asking folks their names. Lastly, strangers are constantly making small-talk with the parents of young kids - they "ahh goo" at our baby and question our toddler on how old she is. They like to smile and say "hi" in pretty much every setting, from the park to the supermarket to church and so on. Tee Jay and I have always taken the stance of being polite, so I've heard us often encourage Casey to "say hi!" to these people. When do we teach her that that's not okay?
Which brings me to another "what is the limit?" matter in our lives: homeless people.
When I was in high school, my then-boyfriend and I spent a lot of time in downtown Providence, and when a homeless person would ask us for money, we'd often take them into the nearest fast food restaurant and pay for a meal -anything they wanted- instead of giving them cash outright. We'd also frequently purchase a dozen Dunkin Donuts (they were half-price after 8:00PM) and hand them out. We thought we were doing some good while also not feeding the beggars' possible guilty pleasures.
Now that I live in Philadelphia, I obviously encounter homeless people and/or panhandlers at times. Granted, they're not in our suburban'ish neighborhood... but we certainly run into them when we're on the subway, downtown, and driving around in the car. In particular, there is one homeless man whom we've seen standing in the middle of a busy boulevard every time we've ventured out to our nearby BJs store. A couple of times, I have rolled down my window and handed him a $1 bill or a handful of change, to which he always says "Thank you, God bless you." Casey asks me who the man is and "what's he doing, Mommy?" when we have these encounters, and I do my best to explain that he doesn't have a job, he is probably hungry, and he is in need of a little bit of money. Then I usually find myself back-pedaling a bit, explaining that we can't give away everything we have because we need to eat, too, but that sometimes it's best to help people out - and that most of all, I guess we should just say a quick prayer for that man so that Jesus will watch over him each night and maybe help him to find a home and work soon.
Am I supposed to teach my child that this homeless man deserves some of my money - or that he is a stranger she shouldn't speak with or give anything to? Am I supposed to ignore the man when we sit at a red light right next to him, knowing in my head that he may be using folks' loose change to purchase alcohol or drugs or cigarettes? Or am I supposed to follow my heart, which tells me that no matter what his story is, whether it involves addictions or not, whether he is homeless "by choice" or not, whether he could work harder to find employment or not, he would NOT be doing what he's doing without there being some serious hardships in his life?
Let's face it. When my traffic light turns green, I take a left-hand turn, pull into BJs, spend a couple hundred dollars on some necessities (but also on many "splurge" items like brie cheese or craisins), and then drive back home - in my car, with the gas I could afford to put in it - to my home, which has air-conditioning and heat and a bathroom and cozy beds and too many toys and games and movies and other nonsensical items. No matter what, even if he could maybe make some different choices in his life, this man doesn't have the same luxuries I have right now.
I'm not writing this post to sound like a good person or to invoke anyone else to "get out there and do something." I seriously do struggle with which message I'm supposed to feed to Casey, and which actions I want her to see me taking.
This morning, we handed our homeless "friend" a little bit of change I found in my wallet and went on our way. But an hour later, as we loaded the car with our BJs groceries, I grabbed an old gift bag lying in the back and filled it with some of the goodies we'd bought - 10 packs of peanut butter crackers, a few rice krispy treats and chewy granola bars, a bottle of water and can of Diet Coke. We stopped at Wendy's next door and added a 20-pack of chicken nuggets to the bag, and then we pulled onto the boulevard and delivered our gift to the man. He didn't know what was inside as we drove away, but he said, "Oh my goodness, oh my goodness" at the heavy bag - "Thank you, God bless you."
I know we did a "good Christian deed," but I'm still unsure of what to teach my kids about limits, safety, charity and cautious cynicism. Any thoughts?
