A strange sense of philanthropy...

As I walked to the station to take my train home from work, my eyes met that of a young man who was part of a street crew - you know, the people who try to sign you up for things: register to vote, join anti-bush rally, destroy the NRA. Normally, when I see these people out of the corner of my eye, I fixedly stare at my feet and quickly walk by so that I can avoid all contact and the chance of getting signed up for stuff I don't need or want (the tactic also helps keep beggars and weirdos at bay). But today, my eyes naturally gravitated towards this young man with an eyebrow piercing, a mop of golden hair and a innocent bewildered look on his face. And the guilt I feel each time for passing by these street crews - who are just trying to make a difference, get the word out, or plain old make a living - got the best of me. I stopped to chat.

His name was Steven, and he was signing people up for Children International, one of those programs where you can sponsor a child for $20 a month. I have always meant to become involved in this kind of a charity - I'm a big supporter of all charities that benefit children/check out www.darkness2light.org - and heard the guy out. He wasn't very convincing - unsurprsingly, since he (by his own admission) had never visited a third world country and never seen poverty first hand. I shared the fact that I come from a country where 80% of the population is below the poverty line and that I was well acquainted with children who ate out of a trashcan and lived in filth and disease. "Probably more so than you", I thought to myself. He didn't have anything new to say but I still stayed to listen. He didn't have anything to give me to take away and read, so I said I'd check out the website (www.children.org) but he said he'd prefer it if I signed up with a street crew member 'cos.. uh.. umm.. it's just better that way. Read: that's how I get my commission.

Now at this point I got annoyed. I understand that standing in the middle of a road in cold weather, trying to sell something that no one wants to buy is a crappy job. I'd put it right below telemarketing. But come on - if you're doing something charitable, or volunteering for a good cause, put some energy into it and be happy if you even got someone to go the website. Awareness is everything, even if someone didn't sign up with you. Maybe I'm being too harsh - the guy was probably tired and wanted to get a burger and veg in front of a reality show. But still, if you're trying to sell philanthropy, act inspired and passionate.

So I promised I'd check the website, and was on my way.

Then, when I got home, I had another incident. A little old black lady with a cane was hovering around the intercome-buzzer area in the foyer. While I am normally very wary of little old ladies (you never know what's under those shawls), I stopped to talk to her. The woman was looking for her son, who she hadn't heard from in "a long time" and who didn't show up for work with his sister today. The last contact address he gave her was 711 W. Belmont, my building. Only thing was, the apartment number he gave her was 11L. Now, this building has 5 floors and each apartment has a numerical assignment: 101, 102.... etc on the first floor, 201, 202.... etc on the second floor, and so on. I knew there was no 11L but still for her sake, I checked for it. I looked on the buzzer list for her, but no 11L existed and her son's last name wasn't on the buzzer list. Strangely, his last name was "Tollfree" - no kidding, that's how she spelled it. I told her I had been living here for a year and never seen the name anywhere.

Understandably, the woman was upset. I tried to be kind and helpful, offered to call her a cab, but she said her husband was outside. And after one last attempt to find her son's name on the buzzer list, she said "Thank you, sweetheart" and left. I said "Good luck" to her back, but I think she was too sad to hear it.

I don't know if I feel sorry for her and frustrated with a society where children don't speak to their parents, or suspicious that she was either up to no good and that she was mentally unstable. (I'm sorry to say I had my eyes on her the whole time, and I felt bad about it but you can never be too careful. Plus, who has a name like Tollfree??) Well, it was a strange experience and I hope she finds her son. She looked quite worried.

So I must be in a good mood today. I did two, somewhat out of character, charitable things. Strange.