I want to help the world.
I can remember it like yesterday, my travels as a little kid. My family having never been wealthy as such, limited our travels to things local. Very local. Disney World was our biggest trips. Finally, one day we loaded up into the old Buick (an adventure in itself) and drove from our home in South Florida to take our biggest trip yet. We made the long drive up to Atlanta, Georgia. Being a small kid, I had no means of income other than what my parents could impart on me. I think it was about $15 if my memory serves me well. After buying the necessary items, a baseball cap, a t-shirt, and some other souvenirs that would ultimately be lost to the abyss of my bedroom. I remember having $5 left.
Five dollars was not necessarily a ton of money at the time, but it was to me and I wasn’t about to go blow it on something stupid. No matter how badly I wanted something, I wouldn’t waste it. Souvenir from the CNN Center? Something from the Coca Cola tour? A gift for someone from Underground Atlanta? Perhaps something that commemorates the 1996 Olympics in Atlanta? NO! I must preserve my funds and not just give it away! I would feel so upset if I just gave it away, but that is precisely what I did. I began to stress about what I should spend my last $5 on.
I remember there being homeless people all over the city. I remember this one guy who had a pile of stuff next to him that looked like garbage. As we were walking, he wasn’t really begging anyone for money. He was actually eating food out of his pile, which had obviously been taken out of a trash can. I remember looking past him and seeing the desperation in his eyes. I wondered to myself what had happened to him that he was now in this situation. Perhaps his life was once normal? As I saw the countless people walk past him, I wondered why everyone ignored him. Even my own parents didn’t look at him. In fact, my Mom held my hand to make sure I was still next to her. As I walked past him, he didn’t look at us, but I was looking at him. I sensed that my parents were worried more about me than about him. We continued walking, but I couldn’t let the thought go. A few steps later, I knew what I had to do.
I let my Mom’s hand go and said I needed to go back to the guy on the street. She listened to me when I said I wanted to give the man my last $5. She knew how tightly I was holding on to that money, and asked me if I was sure. I was sure, it was one of the clearest thoughts I ever had. I said that I wanted to give it to him so that he could get something to eat. She said okay and walked me back to him. As I approached, he looked confused, perhaps to be approached by a kid so abruptly. He looked scared and confused. I reached into my pocket took out the five dollars without saying anything, looked at it in my hand, and extended mine towards him. He looked at the money in shock. I said that it was so he could go get something to eat. His eyes started watering and as he was took the money I was handing him, he kept saying “God Bless You!” The feeling of charity that I got was greater than anything I had gotten on that trip and I remember it more vividly than anything else on that trip.
Today, as an adult, I have no idea what he did with that money. I have no idea if he was struggling with an addiction to drugs or alcohol, or simply a man down on his luck. For years, I’ve tried to be charitable in my life. Although I’ve never been in a position to donate any sum of money, I have raised money and volunteered for many causes. I am at the point in my life where I want to do something charitable. I believe in sharing knowledge, collaborating, and promoting acceptance/tolerance towards others. I do however have the time and the ability to travel. I want to go somewhere and help people, to share knowledge, to help the way we think of people in and from other countries. It is only a matter of time until I figure out what I want to do. Until then, comment or email me with suggestions.
-Jason of TWiBT
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