Duped?

I was driving carpool home from preschool and saw a gentleman walking along the roadway. Well-groomed and healthy looking,   at first I wasn’t sure if he was homeless or just on his way somewhere. As I drew to a stop at the light he pulled a sign- containing the word “cancer”- out of his jacket, so I rolled down my passenger window. He noticed and came up- I offered him the lunch and he accepted with a “Thank you very much!”

I was pleased to have given away my fourth lunch, but in retelling the story,   I began having doubts.   Was this person scamming people?   How many of my Twelve Lunches would go to dishonest hucksters- how many already HAD?

Does it matter?

I often hear from people who choose not to help homeless people because a) they will use any cash they are given for alcohol or drugs or b) they are likely to be scammers.   We’ve all heard the one about the ‘homeless’ person who drives a Lexus and lives in the suburbs on their tax-free six figure income from busking at the subway station.   In reality, I’ve been approached many times here in the city by people asking for cash – not a buck but more like a twenty- because they are stranded far away from home and need gas or a bus ticket.   These people are often well-groomed and good communicators, as opposed to the type of homeless person I often encountered asking for change on a street corner, who are more likely to be in need of a bath and dressed in dirty clothing or without a coat.   I suppose my soccer-mom persona probably makes me an easy mark for the scammers- I’m often approached in grocery store parking lots when I’m getting out of my mini-van decorated with school bumper stickers,   shopping list in hand.   I’ve known others (usually men) who are approached at ATMs.

I’ve decided not to let my fear of being tricked interfere with the happy dispersal of Twelve Lunches.   They are freely given to the first twelve people I encounter who will accept.   Ridding myself of the attachment to the money I spent on the materials to make them up allows me to be willfully reckless with who they go to.   I’m not bogged down with the responsibility of judging anyone’s worthiness to partake of my family’s resources.

And it feels good to be free.