Fifty Cents
Saturday night, while I was walking to my El station, wallet in hand, fishing for a couple singles, a guy approached me to ask for money. Before I could give him my standard No, sorry, I don’t have any extra money on me, I heard him say something about needing $0.40.
My fingers were, literally, touching a $10 bill, so I couldn’t really say I couldn’t help him. And, honestly, I knew I had a couple quarters in the change pouch. So, in a split second, I changed my mind and said sure, yeah, I think I have that. Will $.50 be OK, or do you need exact change?
I handed him two quarters, and he thanked me over and over again, like I’d handed him the winning lottery ticket or the secret to curing cancer or something. Thank you so much, I really appreciate it, thank you, he kept saying. That’s when I looked at him, like for the first time, as I hadn’t looked up before then, as I’d been looking at the street, my wallet, the change I was counting. He was blonde, carrying a beach towel, all of 19 years old, at most.
No seriously, thank you, really, he said again, walking ahead of me to the Red Line. While we got our tickets at the booth, he and his friends were getting theirs. And he came over to me again, before they went through their line, and told me again how much he appreciated it.
I’ve been thinking about it since, thinking how good he made me feel for giving him half a dollar and how simple of a thing it was really, less than the cost of a candy bar or a can of pop. Less than I would worry about if it fell out of my wallet.
5 Responses to “Fifty Cents”
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Excellent point. Nicely told.
Sometimes I feel funny about giving people money because you never know what they are going to use it for. but then when you can help someone out and they are grateful it makes you feel so good.
I once gave $20 to a homeless man on Christmas Eve. I’ve never regretted it. Sometimes you just have to go with your gut (and your heart).
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