I did
something today I’ve never done before. A man — 30s? 40s? — was sitting on the
corner on a black plastic crate, asking for money. I passed by on my way to the
grocery store. No money in my pockets, so nothing to give.
In the
store, I bought bottles of juice, a few small yogurt containers, a package of
carrots, and a box of little yellow tomatoes, and pocketed 42 cents in change. As I
left the store, I thought I would give the change to the man on the corner (if
he was still there; often the begging people move on). But 42 cents seemed
piddling. What if I gave him some of the food I just bought? A yogurt? I didn’t
know whether he was a yogurt eater. I could give him the tomatoes.
He was
still sitting on the crate on the corner, asking for change. I gave him the
coins, and asked, “Do you want some tomatoes?” He looked puzzled at the package
I handed him; they were yellow, not the usual color of a tomato.
“What is
it?” he asked.
“Tomatoes.”
“Potatoes?”
“No, yellow
tomatoes.” And I moved on.
I’ve never
given food to a person begging on the street, thinking, what if it’s food they
don’t like, what if it’s something they’re allergic to and they get sick. Maybe
he’ll sell the tomatoes to get what he really wants, cash. I don’t know. I’m
not sure I want to know.
