Ungiving to charity

In which I am a rebel without a cause to support.

Being charitable doesn’t come naturally, I get riled up every time I step onto Birmingham’s main street and prepare myself to run the gamut of chuggers waiting to accost the unaware shoppers. It’s like the Pamplona bull run but running at the herd instead of away from the clipboarding hoard.

If I was to be in a position where I didn’t have to work and I could turn myself into a much less rich Bill and Melinda Gates I’m not sure who I could help. As well as dealing with the workers of Charity Militant I also struggle with who I should choose to help.

It’s very mean of charities to ask you to decide between who is the most worthwhile cause. Pick between this sad child and this sad puppy, our cancer is worse than their cancer, which human rights abuse angers you most.

I have finite resources to be able to help those in need, I am not rich enough to donate to all and there is not enough time to lend a hand.

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The Bad Samaritan

In which I stop to help.

It’s funny looking back, we can all wear the tinted glasses and imagine that we dealt pretty well with failure and strife when at the time we were all at sea.

Many times the bad is what you get before the good, it’s the universe’s way of making us appreciate the happy times. If life was great all the time there would be no great times, just times.

At one point the universe seemed like such a meanie I decided to never help anyone again, this is that story, the story of the Bad Samaritan. (It should be noted that I am now the Good Samaritan, or at least he mildly nice one).

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Being a Good Samaritan

In which I let someone else talk about the kindness of strangers.

I thought for today I should let Mrs G speak, it’s my way of being kind and trying to get more people to listen to here rather than me. She’ll shout at me as she’ll want to have written this herself but this is from a comment she made on an old post of mine so I think I own the copyright, but I think it shows that kindness is out there in the most unsuspecting of places.

Coming from what is arguably the most notoriously selfish city in the world, NYC, I wonder. I see people refuse to step aside to let others onto a subway car because they want to lean on the doors. My mother had a period where she was severely slowed because of a bad hip and still limping to work every day, yet commuters would still shove her, or get irritated when they were stuck behind her on a staircase.

And that’s to say nothing of the muggings, scams, drunken vomiting, and the rest of the scope of activities which show a complete disregard for other people.The NYC subway could be the perfect example of this argument.Indeed, one questions motives. If someone on the subway starts to talk to someone else, motives are questioned. I knew a guy from the Midwest who used to give up seats to women, and they would eye him suspiciously, wondering what he was after. If you bump into someone because the train jars you, brace yourself for a fight. Continue reading “Being a Good Samaritan”