Do you spare change for the homeless?

Here's a story that I like to remember when I need to reaffirm my faith in myself:

My friend Jared and I used to go to a sandwich shop called Jordan's all the time when we were in our early teens. It was owned and operated by a kindly older gentleman named Jordan Teller, who was a wizard at making delicious sandwiches. Despite this, his sandwich shop didn't do a great deal of business and closed when we were sixteen.

In January of 2001, Jared and I were cutting through an alley behind the local movie theater when we saw a man sleeping beneath a cardboard box. He had no jacket and was obviously freezing. We looked closer and saw that it was Mr. Teller, the man who used to serve me a chicken salad sandwich with mustard almost every day for three years.

Shocked, Jared and I woke him up to ask him what he was doing outside. He told us that after his shop closed, he moved in with his brother in town since he could no longer afford his own place. His brother was killed in a car accident a few months ago, though, and he was soon without residence. Due to his age, lack of transportation--there are no buses here--and the fact that he never completed high school, he couldn't find a job.

At first we thought there was nothing we could do but give our sympathy and a little cash, but I didn't think that was enough. I went back the next day and took Mr. Teller to buy a nice winter coat, boots, gloves, and a hat to wear, as well as some nice clothes. Since at that time I had an apartment with a strict landlord, I couldn't let him live with me, but I arranged for him to move in with my friend Tim, whose father found him a job in his office. Soon Mr. Teller could afford a small apartment downtown, and was supporting himself again. It's not a glamorous existance, but in me mind he's no less noble than royalty.

I don't mistake myself for a good person, but sometimes when I feel like the most worthless parasite of society, I try to use this anecdote to remind myself that there's good in me, too.

Sorry for bringing this so off-topic. I guess I should respond: although I rarely have any spare change, I try to give as much as I can.

I know that when we had a Netphorian meetup in Raleigh, before I got there, this extraordinarily scraggy-looking man came up to our contingent, which was simply walking down the street, and asked its members if they could spare some change.

When they asked him what he needed it for, the obviously drunk man told them he needed it to buy heroin, because he hadn't received his fix in a few days and was desperate.

I felt really fucking bad when I heard that story, but then, what do you do in that situation?

I don't give and I don't buy the big issue either.

Originally posted by Ammy:
if I have it. but i usually only have my debit card anyway.

there was once this lady in SF going to all of the ashtrays for cigarette butts that were still smokable.. so I gave her my pack.. sure I'm helping her die, but at least she's smoking fresh cigs, right? *shrug*

No, that's cool. You saved her some self-respect.