If You're Not Going To Eat That, Little Boy, I Will Said The

If Youre Not Going To Eat That Little Boy I Will Said The Man Si

If you’re not going to eat that, little boy, I will," said the man sitting on the sidewalk to my son, who was holding a doggie bag of restaurant leftovers. It was the first time my son had ever seen a homeless person. He was 5 years old, and we were spending the weekend visiting museums in Washington, D.C. It was a March night of unusually raw weather--not a night to be sitting on a cold, hard sidewalk. I tightened my grasp on my son's hand as I made eye contact with the man.

"Spare anything, ma'am?" My son looked up at me uneasily, so I left him with my husband and went over to the man, dollar extended. He thanked me and asked my son again for his doggie bag. I motioned him over, nodding my assurances. "I didn't finish my steak sandwich," my son told him proudly, as he handed the man his bag. The man thanked him and said, "Be good to your mommy." At just that moment a father and his two teenage sons walked past and, without breaking his stride, barked out: "It'd be better if they got a job!" I was startled by the intensity of the man's disapproval, but I, too, have had doubts about offering handouts to the homeless.

Under the watchful eyes of my child, I chose the action that I hoped would speak to my son about the principles of charity I hold dear, but the truth is, my decision to give has seldom been so clear-cut. Like most people, I'm more comfortable giving when the people on the receiving end are anonymous. I happily participate in the clothing drives sponsored by my son's school, and I drop my spare change in the big metal kettle at the mall, where a man dressed like Santa Claus rings his bell and smiles at shoppers. Giving directly to the street person shambling across my pathway--well, that's another matter. Hollywood tends to portray the homeless as lovable rogues (think Eddie Murphy in "Trading Places"), but in real life, the person asking for money is often suffering the effects of mental illness or addiction.

I'm not proud to admit it, but even the few seconds it takes to look the other person in the eye, extend my hand and offer some change can feel like more of a connection than I want to make. I've heard the intellectual arguments against giving handouts: the money will be used to buy drugs or alcohol, handouts breed dependency, giving money discourages the homeless from going to shelters. I don't want to undermine the efforts of the mental-health professionals who work to get the homeless off the streets. But what I know in my head doesn't square with what I feel in my heart. Pretending that people don't exist and withholding a couple of quarters or a dollar bill feels like the wrong thing to do.

Several years after our encounter with the homeless man in Washington, my son and I visited New York City. As we walked down the street, a thin, drugged-out young man approached us and asked us for change. It was midtown at midday, so there was nothing particularly threatening about the circumstances. Nevertheless, the man was, by anyone's standards, unsavory-looking with his dirty clothes and unhealthy skin. I passed him by.

Half a block later, my son stopped walking and asked: "Why didn't you give him anything?" I fumbled through a rationale about how we hadn't had time to stop and why we couldn't possibly give to everyone. My son interrupted and said, "Yeah, I don't think you should give money to people like that." "People like that." In his words and his tone of voice were echoes of the man who told the panhandler to get a job. I had shown my son that it was acceptable to classify people as the deserving and the undeserving poor. Last spring I traveled to London to do some work-related research. Each day on the way to the library, I passed a group of homeless men lying on the steps of St.

Pancras Old Church. Perhaps spending time in one of Charles Dickens's old neighborhoods set me thinking about his righteous anger at society's neglect of its poor. Or maybe I finally accepted that I’m in no position--and who is?--to judge another person’s worthiness of a small act of kindness. Whatever the reason, I decided that I would always give when asked, even when it means weathering the sidelong glances of those who think I’m a fool or worse. My son is now a teenager and will have to decide for himself if and how he’ll give to the poor.

For all of my inconsistencies, I hope that I’ve taught him that it’s better to set the needle of his compass to the magnetic pull of kindness than to contempt. But time alone will tell.

Paper For Above instruction

The moral and ethical considerations surrounding charitable giving to the homeless entail complex emotional, social, and philosophical dimensions. Personal experiences often influence individual decisions about whether to give money directly to those in need and how to balance compassion with prudence. This essay explores the nuances of giving to the homeless, reflecting on personal anecdotes, societal attitudes, and broader ethical debates to understand how compassion can be enacted in everyday life.

In the narrative, a mother witnesses her young son encounter a homeless man in Washington, D.C. The man’s plea for a doggie bag of leftovers highlights an act of kindness that teaches her son about charity. Despite the cold weather and societal prejudices, the mother chooses to give, hoping to impart the principle of kindness to her child. The encounter underscores the internal conflict many face regarding direct charity: while the human impulse is to help, societal stereotypes about homelessness and addiction often hinder action.

Research indicates that giving directly to homeless individuals can have both positive and negative consequences. On the one hand, charitable acts can provide immediate relief and foster personal connections, reinforcing the value of compassion. On the other hand, critics argue that such donations may inadvertently support substance abuse or dependency, as many homeless individuals struggle with mental health issues and addiction (Fitzpatrick & O'Hara, 2014). This dilemma forces donors to consider their intentions and the potential outcomes of their acts of kindness.

The societal perspective further complicates the issue. Public attitudes towards homelessness often reflect fear, prejudice, and a desire for order. The mother’s experience in New York, where she dismisses a drug-affected young man, exemplifies the tendency to categorize those in need based on appearance and perceived threat. Such judgments reinforce harmful stereotypes that stigmatize the homeless, making meaningful aid more difficult to administer compassionately.

Nonetheless, the mother reflects on her evolving understanding of her responsibilities as a citizen and human being. Her decision to commit to giving whenever asked signifies a recognition that judgment should not preclude acts of kindness. This attitude aligns with ethical philosophies such as Kantian ethics, which emphasize treating individuals as ends rather than means and acting according to moral duty (Kant, 1785). Similarly, virtue ethics advocates for cultivating compassion and practical wisdom, serving as guides for moral action.

Cultural and historical contexts also influence perceptions of homelessness. The mother’s reference to Charles Dickens underscores a literary tradition that criticizes societal neglect of the poor and advocates for social responsibility. Dickens’s works frequently depict characters marginalized by economic hardship and moral failure, compelling readers to consider the societal obligations towards vulnerable populations. Such historical narratives inform contemporary debates about policy, charity, and social justice.

In conclusion, the act of giving to the homeless involves assessing immediate needs, societal assumptions, moral principles, and individual conscience. While there are valid concerns about supporting dependency or enabling harmful behaviors, ultimately, kindness rooted in moral duty and compassion remains paramount. Personal stories highlight that individual acts of charity can serve as moral exemplars, inspiring a more empathetic and inclusive society. Teaching the next generation to prioritize kindness over contempt fosters a culture where human dignity is honored above judgment.

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