Begging and giving

The other day we were discussing giving money to beggars. Some people think it is our moral duty to give them money. Others think we shouldn't. One person argued that society would be better off if it didn't give money to anybody because that would help and persuade people to stand on their own.

I don't like giving to beggars but I have. I had a beggar (I'd rather call them street people.) who came around regularly for money. In exchange he would do some yard work. However, it got that he was coming too often for money and I told him I felt he was taking advantage of me. So we had to agree on rules, that he would only come every two weeks. Sometimes he broke the rules and I refused to give him money. Nevertheless, he would keep on and plead about how desperately he needed the money. Often I would give in. He would say he needed new shoes or a coat. Sometime I'd curse him and tell him to get lost. Sometimes that worked but most often it didn't. He said that when I yelled at him to go away I scared the hell out of him. Imagine I scaring him! I guess he had feeling too.

On occasions he put himself in rehab for a few months or he would be arrested and thrown in jail. After each incident he would come out a different person, clean and lean. But he always reverted to his old self. That's generally what happens. Sometimes I would tell him he smelt like a barn. He wasn't offended. On the contrary. He'd say to me, you know what I like about you, you're honest and up front. One day he smelt so badly my wife could smell him on the second floor.

Once when I gave him money I saw him jump straight into a taxi. I was livid. The next time I saw him I said, I didn't give you money to jump in a cab but to take care of yourself. Perhaps, though, he had to go to the hospital. During one winter I didn't see him for months. I could have used him to shovel the snow. I said to my wife in a sarcastic tone, I bet he's vacationing in Florida. "No wonder with all the money you give him" she said in an equally sarcastic tone.

My street person knew he was giving me angst. He could see it in my anger towards him sometimes. In view of that he would say, "I am the son you never wanted" He was so right. But what a cheek!

You can imagine the surprise I had the other day when I came downstairs and saw him standing in my store. He told me he had been incarcerated for 16 months. He looked plump and healthy but his teeth were still missing. I didn't ask him why he had been in jail. That slipped my mind due to the shock of seeing him. I told him I thought he was dead. He told me he dreamt I had moved away. Anyway, he told me he was broke and asked me if I could help him. Back to his old self I said. I gave him twenty dollars and he said he would be back to do some work for it. I told him that the same rules apply as before, not that it will make much difference.

There is the belief amongst some that street people should work or be put to work, that they can work like the rest of us. Well, they can't work like the rest of us for several reasons. My theory as to one reason why they can't work is because they've never had the work ethic instilled in them. They didn't have the parents that might have taught them how to apply themselves. My street person only knows a little bit about working and that's it. And in being dependent on others most have become very crafty and charismatic in order to survive.

As the masthead of my blog reads my subject is about democracy. So what does this have to do with democracy? Well, much of democracy has to do with the recognition and upholding of human rights. Human rights means that all people deserve a measure of respect. Street people are human. They deserve a measure of respect.