on giving

I help people not because I know thier worth, but because I value my own.

I noticed that my neighbor had a disabled person parking permit and was as snowed-in their driveway as I was after the latest 8″ of snow fell on Ohiyo. And since I was shoveling out my own driveway, I also cleared off theirs. And I had cause for reflection on our shared human condition while I philosophized on the gift of giving.

Yes, my neighbor had a disabled parking permit. But, even if it was not their car but they were borrowing their grandmother’s, I would have done the same. I did not ask myself if the permit was theirs. I did not ask if they were rich or poor or on welfare. I did not ask if they were Christians or Republicans and I did not care what their gender was or if they were gay or their race.  I did not ask any of these other things because a true gift of kindness is not based upon the condition of the receiver but based solely on the condition of the giver. I had a shovel and warm clothes and the time to do what needed to be done and for once my back was cooperating. Therefore I was in the condition to give of my time and my back for the task. I did not enquire as to the worth or condition of the receiver. I only asked of my own. A true gift is not a reflection of the worth of the receiver; but speaks to the worth of the giver and our shared human condition only. I help people not because I know their worth, but because I value my own. Aho!

(C)henry francis redhouse, 2014. Artwork is property of its respective owners.

 

all in a circle

“All is in a circle. Each kindness begets others…”

This past weekend, I went to a small Powwow. I think everyone there knew everyone else (or were directly related)– and then, there was me: outsider from the East. And my truck broke down as soon as I pulled into the registration office! Seeing as this seemed like a small, family place, I asked the staff if they knew if a mechanic was in camp who might look at my truck. One was quickly found willing to try to jump the truck’s battery, fiddle with some wires and relays, ect. But, in the end, both he and I wanted to enjoy the Powwow; so he promised after dancing that we could try to pop-start the clutch and get me on the road then.

He was true to his word, and rounded up three other young dancers after the shindig, to push my truck and get it running. I drove all the way home (79 miles/128 km) without shutting off the engine! I let it idle in park at the gas station, and instead of stopping, I had to pull off a quiet exit ramp and urinate out the door!

At the gas station, a middle-aged, red-haired woman approached me. She seemed to be in great distress. She said that her debit card would not work and she could not get gas to drive home. She was embarrassed and aplogetic to be asking. I asked her if she had relatives in the area that she could call for help. She said she had tried and they were no longer home. I asked her where home was– it was nearly 66 miles/106 km away! She appeared so distressed that I thought she might cry or stop breathing right in front of me! She did seem to be a decent woman and drove a (fairly) new vehicle, though nothing fancy; but, newer than mine. She kinda reminded me of my own mother– her face shaped like my Mom’s. And I thought, “What if this was my mother? Would I want a nice boi to help her? And I thought about what had made this woman ask me, of all persons in the busy station, for help? I do not drive a nice truck– it is old and rusty (and was currently idling while I pumped gas because I was afraid it would not re-start!)– I do not own designer clothes. I do not look rich or that I have money to spare. Do I have a kind face? Did the spirits direct us each to this exact place and time to help one another? Was it one of my many bumper stickers (the rainbow one, the autism one, the one about Nature?) that made her think I was kin to her? Ach– I am kin to her! And I gave her my last $20 cash for gas.  I wanted to do more for her: I wanted to sit with her and hear her story and reassure her. I wanted to hug her and tell her that it would be OK. But, she might find that too creepy. So, I made sure that she was OK to drive, saw her take the cash into the station to pre-pay and pump the gas. As I left her,  I shook her hand and told her my name. Part of me wanted to make a social statement, and say, “Henry– the transgendered man (or gay man), or the pagan, or the Indian.” But, I am just Henry.  I am sometimes not any of those other things. Sometimes I am just a kind stranger. (I know from experience that when someone is helping you: race, creed, sexual orientation is the last thing you care about! They are helping you, is all! )

I thought how I was having my own troubles with that old truck at the station; it was there idling because I could not shut it off, for fear it would not re-start. And strangers at the Powwow helped me. We are all related. And The distress of one is a distress to us all. I knew I had to be kind– though it would hurt me and I had my own problems. I have been poor my entire adult life. I have gone without food, shelter, medical care, and a vehicle before.  I know how others suffer because I have suffered greatly.  I am not often in a situation where I can help others. It is a great and rare enough priveledge to me to do so. So, when I can, I am generous. All is in a circle. One kindness begets others…the world is better for it.

And I hope that this woman remembers this day as well as I do; and sees that the world still has great kindness and great love in it. Sometimes it comes from the unlikely, the poor, the gay; but there is great love whereever there are kind strangers. I hope that she did notice the pagan and the gay, and  the stickers about autism and says, “I knew a kind [gay/autistic/pagan/Indian] stranger once…” and I hope she might think kindly about such persons in the future, or teach kindness to her children and family because she knew kindness once when she was distressed. All is in a circle as it should be.

(C) henry francis redhouse, 2013. Artwork is property of its respective owners.