Needy, Greedy, or am I Being Unseemly?

I am not naturally a generous or kind person.  I marvel at the philanthropists of the world who volunteer to be Big Sisters, donate blood, and cook organic meals for the elderly.  I can barely meet the demands of my own family on a daily basis, let alone provide aid and comfort to the suffering.  I try, but I often fall short.

My husband, on the other hand, is a far more generous soul.   He believes in giving to the community around him and doles out more pairs of his own gloves to the homeless than I can count.  He pulls over on expressways to assist accident victims and buys charity raffle tickets by the crate.   While he often comes across as a big old grump, he is really quite kind and soft. 

Being married to a nicer person than myself has opened my eyes to the needs of others.  My community of Beverly is a virtual haven of do-gooders who rally behind every ill child, victim of tragedy, and family in crisis.   When I moved here 6 years ago, I couldn’t understand why my husband was so adamant that this was the best place in the world to raise a family.  I understand now. 

In an effort to become a nicer person, I usually try to participate in several charitable causes and giving opportunities during December.  My husband rolls his eyes and implies I'm only vying for salvation.    

One charity, started by local oncology nurse Geri Neylon, is Christmas Without Cancer.  Geri typically seeks aid for several of her cancer patients each year who are experiencing the worst combination of disease, loss, and joblessness.  She collects gift cards, toiletries, and clothing for these families (if you are interested  in supporting her patients, you can contact her at gneylon@att.net).

Another charity I have participated in is the “Giving Tree” at my local preschool.  Every year, the school collects the requests of kids and teenagers living in group homes or shelters.  The school puts paper ornaments on a tree with their requests.  Yet several years ago, I balked when each and every ornament included one of the following:

·         Xbox  360 with games

·         Cell phone with video camera

·         Blue Ray Player

·         Nintendo DS

·         Gift Card to Nordstroms

As a Target-loving, anti-electronics couponing nut, I was surprised.  I left the school feeling somewhat uncomfortable with my range of emotions.   While I certainly understood these children had social and emotional needs that were obviously not being met in group living, I felt throwing an Xbox their way wasn’t quite the right way to go either.  And where was the guidance of the adults and employees of the home, advising the teenagers that the people receiving their requests were not in fact Donald Trump? 

It got me thinking about what constitutes “needy” in our society.  I have a very Angela’s Ashes view of poverty and need (drinking sugar water for dinner, sleeping on a rat-infested mattress on the floor, etc.).  Is it wrong to feel weird about being asked to buy an Xbox when I expected to buy a kid a pair of boots and a warm coat?  Should I have just gone off and bought the DS without a second thought and been thankful for the opportunity to bring joy to a child?  Was I being selfish and hypocritical?

Last week, I revisited “The Giving Tree” at that very same preschool and there were different kinds of requests this time out:  coats, hats, gloves, robes.  The school had chosen the Crisis Center of South Suburbia which serves those families impacted by domestic violence.  Most of the women and children there had basically arrived with only a few small possessions.      

The definition of “needy” obviously varies.  At the end of the day, my only true gauge is what I would want people to give my own children should they ever be truly in need:  a warm coat, soft pajamas, and a good book. 

Every child deserves at least that.  In terms of love and support, all children deserve so much more.  I am trying to get to the point where I can give of myself and fulfill that even greater gift of time and attention to children in need, but I fear I am not there. Plus, I am very mean and I'd probably just end up enrolling the poor thing in piano and Latin.

I'm trying, Lord.  I'm trying.