- Share This Post
- submit
- 14
-
Sparkle (0)
The world is such a big place, with so many big troubles. Even for those who want to do something useful, or helpful, it is impossible to know how to find the right place to begin, and often puzzling to discern what to do once you have found that place. How could you possibly do enough? There is a solution. Don't worry about "enough". Don't worry about where to start. There is so much undone good to do in the world, just plunge in anywhere your heart leads you. Do One Thing. Let yourself just do one thing for someone else this holiday season. If you already are awash in good deeds, do one extra. Why? Because it is the right thing to do. Because there is always a way to stretch.
Many years ago, after my divorce, I was living in NYC. A childhood friend had offered me the extra room in his flat. I moved there because that seemed to be the best idea. NYC - town of possibilities. NYC - town where I had some friends. Oh, but there was another side to the NYC coin. NYC - millions unemployed that year. NYC - Blizzards. Holidays approaching. Money dwindling. No jobs. It didn't take long for me to feel like the orphan divorcee. And, as Christmas lurched forward, I was about as bereft as I had ever been. You who know heartbreak understand exactly what I was feeling. I was not unique. I was just in big pain.
I have told this story before. It is my way to smack myself upside my own head. One mid-December freezing day I was walking up 5th Avenue, applying for work at any place that seemed to be employing people. But it was the holidays, and everyone was "full up" with employees. I got as far uptown as Saks Fifth Avenue, a store glittering as blindingly as the sun. Saks had animated windows, shoppers with armloads of gifts, and Christmas carols being broadcast onto the street. I was grumbling. "Oh, just shoot me now." I said to no one in particular. Who notices anyway -- this is NY. I can be as nuts as I want to be and no one will give a sweet damn. Who gives a sweet damn anyway? I was sinking into self-pity at a rapid rate.
I was so wrapped up in contemplating my own misfortune, that I almost bumped into him, the blind man with the dog and pencils. Braced against a mailbox was the following tableau. A blind man was standing with a cup of pencils. His eyes were crusty and rheumy. He was dressed warmly, but not warmly enough for the cold day. Snow had begun to swirl around him. From his neck hung a sign asking people to buy a pencil and offering a blessing to them for their help. At his feet was a black lab, fitted with the kind of leather handled harness that is unique to Guide Dogs. The dog sat on a rectangular piece of worn carpet sample that his owner had provided. As I approached them, I saw the man remove his scarf -- tightening up his own jacket collar against the bitter cold. He reached down and felt for the dog's ears, and tied the scarf around the dog's head to warm his ears. The dog cuddled back against the man's legs.
How dare I feel unfortunate. Shame on me for indulging my own sorrow so. I didn't have much money to my name, but I had a friend who would house me until I found work and could afford my own place. I had family that loved me and would not let me fall into an abyss. I had friends. An education. I had faith. I had, even if it was small, the ability to help. Look at this man. He had a whole lot less than I did. yet there he was, making a loving sacrifice for his dog. I don't know his back story. I didn't need to. I just know that his act of generosity woke me up.
I reached in my pocket and said in my thoughts, "God, I trust you to fill this again. If I have the ability to help, I have an abundance." I took what I had in my pocket -- some paper and some coins, and placed it in the man's cup so that he could hear it. He thanked me. I told him that I was
