I’ve never been good with money. Wait, let me clarify – I mean, I’m good at earning it, spending it, but not necessarily keeping it. Maybe it’s because as a little girl I remember watching the musical, “Hello Dolly” and Dolly Levi saying,
“Money, pardon the expression, is like manure. It’s not worth a thing unless it’s spread around, encouraging young things to grow.”
I kinda took that to heart and ran with it.
Even as a struggling 20-something year old, working in Boston, I’d pass homeless people on the street and before even making eye contact, I’d search through my pocketbook for a $5 or $10…because I thought a $1 was insulting. I mean, seriously, what can you buy for a buck, anyway?
I’d even managed to put money in the coffee cup of a man I thought was homeless, only to have him pull the soggy bill from his hot coffee, laugh and say, “Honey, you probably need this more than I do!” He wasn’t homeless, but indeed a construction worker on strike. Good times.
Suffice to say, I find pleasure in giving. Perhaps it was my Catholic upbringing, my parent’s teachings, my love of Jesus and all things happy and nice.
It feels good to give. It feels good to bring joy to someone in need. It makes me feel like I’m making a difference in this world.
You know what doesn’t feel good? Forgetting it’s the 1st, and not keeping enough for rent.
That gets a whoops.
What can I say? I’m a work in progress.