Panhandling

In general, I try to be a compassionate person.  I spend a great deal of my life thinking, "There but for the grace of God go I."  I recognize that nothing is guaranteed, that I am extremely fortunate, that everything I have could be taken from me in an instant, and so I am very grateful.

But I also believe the idea that, "God helps those who help themselves."

Which is why is rankles me that twice now in less than two weeks I have been accosted by someone in a parking lot, when I am clearly in the process of getting my children into or out of the car, and asked if I can spare a few dollars for gas money.

The first time this happened, two Caucasian guys driving slowly in the parking lot stopped and asked for gas money.  I politely told them no.  I wanted to tell them that if they'd quit cruising the parking lot they'd have enough gas left to get their asses home.

Today it was an African-American woman with a cane.  And again, I politely refused.  Fortunately M was screaming his head-off so me saying, "I can't because I've got a screaming baby" wasn't just a way to get her to skidaddle.

I hate to think that these people are skammers, but, really, did you not look at your gas tank before you left the house?  Is there no one else on the planet, like family or friend, that you can contact?  Although I dislike being a suspicious kind of person, I think some people are suspicious.

It makes me want to type up a small list of local charitable organizations that these people can contact, so that when someone asks me for money, I can say, "No, I can't spare a dollar for gas, but I can give you this."  That would be along the lines of teaching a man to fish instead of handing him a grouper, right?