I am such a Good Person or
the World's biggest Sucker?

Indulge me by allowing me to share with you one of my first experiences with being charitable. I was about six years old and living in Portugal. I would walk to school and pass up a field that was empty with the exception of a small shanty building the size of a child’s room. As I got together with other school mates, there was a kid that was always a little dirty looking that often joined us at play. I never saw this kid at school and soon learned that he lived in the little shanty with his father.

Sometime later, I saw this kid with his head all bandaged up. The story according to my friends was that his father had beaten him to an inch of his life. Feeling really bad for this poor kid, I came home and shared this story with my mother. She told me to find him and bring him to our home, she wanted to speak with him. I did as I was told or else my head was going to be bandaged too – kidding!

This went on for a few days, I felt really good that my family was trying to make a difference in someone’s life. Funny, no one thought about calling the cops and having his father arrested, but it was a different time and country altogether.

Anyway, about two weeks into this routine, I invited him to play  with a couple of friends while I was riding my bike. We were all at the top of a long hill. I asked the kid if he wanted to try riding my bike. He was eager for the opportunity. He got on my bike and launched down the hill. He was smiling and appeared so happy. I was such a good person.

He reached the bottom of the hill safely, I made him so happy, I am a great guy. Although he had reached the flat portion of the street, he was still going in a straight line. Probably still too much speed from the hill, needed to slow down before turning around and peddling back to the top? He kept going and going until he was completely out of sight. I waited and waited and never saw him or my bike again that day.

I was no longer a good person, I was the world’s biggest sucker! A couple days later some good friends of mine returned my bike. They told the kid was trying to sell it to them for what would have been a couple of bucks. They knew that it belonged to me and just took it from him. I never saw the kid again, he never came over my home. As a six year old I had a whole speech prepared for him, but I knew in the end I would forgive him, because I was such a good person. I never really learned how my parents felt about what he did.

I often reflect back on this event and what really happened. Was this kid so messed up that he did not recognized the value of a good meal everyday, clothes and a bath versus a couple bucks? Did he view our charity with contempt? Was my smugness about how good of a person I was just too obnoxious to be around and maybe the kid was just running away in the bike to get away from me? Perhaps, not even thinking about that he was stealing the bike? Who knows!

The only lesson I learned from that day and some subsequent events where I got burned for being charitable is that it’s often better to take a risk at being a sucker (within limits) then living with the guilt that you should have acted to help someone, but decided against it.

Happy Holidays and try to remain charitable in these difficult times.