Lame excuses, bad habits and shameful rationalizations
Our decisions to help others, or not, and to make donations, reflect our character.
The Salvation Army red kettle stood unattended at the grocery store, practically pleading for a donation from hurried customers. Along with everybody else, I hustled past it without thinking twice.
I could have dropped some cash or coins through the kettle’s slot without receiving the customary receipt of “Thank you!” or “Happy holidays!” from the bell-ringer attendant. I chose not to. Not this time anyway.
Inside the store, while paying for my groceries, the cashier asked if I wanted to “round up” my bill’s total for a local charity.
“Of course,” I replied.
I do this every time. At any store. No questions asked. Happy to help.
The woman after me was asked the same question. She bristled at the suggestion.
“I already give to several charities,” she replied in a huff.
The cashier didn’t care about her generous philanthropy or her choices for charities. But I did.
Her remark got me thinking about our daily decisions to do the right thing or the not so right thing. To help others or to not help others. And who we choose to help, or not. These seemingly casual decisions come up several times during most of our days, especially during the holiday season.
At that moment, I began noticing these kind of opportunities in my path. Over the span of just 30 minutes, I began mentally marking the number of opportunities to help others — or not — in different ways. It resulted in mixed results for different reasons.
As I bagged my groceries from the conveyor belt, a female customer across from me was having obvious trouble trying to double-bag her frozen turkey.
“These bags can be tricky,” she said to herself.
I offered to help. Two extra hands can make all the difference. She was determined to do it herself and eventually did.
“Thanks for offering, though,” she replied before leaving the store.
In the parking lot, I walked past an elderly woman who had just emptied her cart of grocery bags into her trunk. She was going to roll the cart back to the store.
“I can do that for you,” I told her.
“Yeah?” she replied. “Sure thing,” I said, grabbing her cart and rolling it away.
“Well, thank you!” she yelled, surprised at my offer.
On my way home, I noticed a young man walking from the store with a bag of groceries. He wasn’t wearing a coat. His ungloved hands were clenched from the cold. A crisp wind ruffled his thin T-shirt. His stride was hurried to get warm again, likely at his home.
I drove right past him in my warm car, watching him walk sideways in the wind.
I could have offered him a ride. I saw his obvious hardship. My passenger seat was open. I had the time. He was walking in the same direction as I was driving. I chose not to. I’m not sure why. My personal safety? My precious time? I instinctively rationalized my wrong decision and kept driving. Shame on me.
At my favorite local pizza joint, a collection jar for rescued pets quietly begged for donations. I watched one customer jam a few bills into it without thinking twice. Or did he think about it? All of us make a conscious effort to either make a donation, or not. To offer a gesture of kindness, or not. To make a positive mark in our world, or not.
These moments keep coming into our lives whether we recognize them or not.
For example, an older neighbor of mine underwent major surgery a couple weeks back. After she returned home, one of her friends organized a “meal train” for people to drop off daily meals for her and her husband. I signed up for one of those days, thinking I was doing the right thing for neighbors in need.
But after I dropped it off at their door and waved goodbye, I wondered why I didn’t make the choice to offer such a gesture before being asked by someone else. I could have taken my neighbors dinner on any day, on my own, without the prompt of a meal-train directive from someone else who’s obviously more caring and thoughtful than me.
But I didn’t. Like I said, I came up with mixed results from my personal experiences.
Today’s column isn’t a feel-good piece about how I saw the light of generosity, changed my charitable habits, and now never turn down an opportunity to help others. I still do. Too many times. I’m still the same person, for good and bad, and you probably be will be too after reading this. These daily decisions reflect our true character. It’s not always as honorable or commendable as we tend to tell ourselves.
However, I believe if our self-awareness is raised, so will our selflessness. Maybe it’s one small donation at a time. Or one kind gesture at a time. The challenge of becoming more giving begins with becoming more cognizant of our decisions, without the crutch of shameful excuses, bad habits, or lame rationalizations.
Trust me, I’ve dropped them all into the kettle of poor decisions.