Charity?

The 67 minutes of Mandela Charity thing came and gone without much of a ripple in our routine.
Most of the people I know give much more than 67 minutes of their time to helping other in need either on a daily or on an hourly basis.

One of my friends gives 120 minutes of her time every hour of the day to helping someone in need.
She has a daughter with leukemia.

She is now faced with perhaps leaving her place of residence, because the owner needs it for her own family.

It seems that, in my environment, the people who mostly need to be reminded to give time to charity are those who receive it.

Some people become like helpless sponges and just take.

They have the attitude that the world owes them.

It does not matter how badly you are off, a smile or a good word cost nothing.

I remember some years ago, when our Pick and Pay decided to donate the day old bread to the squatter community.
Sometimes the transport would let them down and the bread become moldy.

The people appeared on television accusing the chain store for regarding them as pigs.

In that case it would have been better if the store chucked the bread. They would not have received the bad publicity the got instead of a “Thank you”

People often slap the hand that feeds them. They always want more and more.

They will only become satisfied when they get in a situation where they become givers and not just takers.

I don’t think the time to start giving is when you have excess. There are lots of things that you can give that do not cost money.
We should all be givers. Of wat praat ek alles

The hungry man

Dear Mr. President,

The man, who delivered free newspapers to my letterbox, asked me for bread when he saw me collect the post.

He was sitting on the opposite side of the road sorting the papers. He called the bread by a different name, and I had to ask him to explain what he was asking for.

My first reaction was to feel annoyed, because we see so much food being thrown away by people, pretending to be hungry, to play on our emotions to get money for booze instead. Professional liars.

Then I remember that it has been some weeks since I saw food being thrown away.
Perhaps people are really starving.
The man’s face flashed in front of my eyes.
His skin was darker than that of our local native population. He looked thin and sickly. His eyes were hollow.

My husband just left and I was alone at home. How do I know he was not going to pull a knife out and stab me when I hand him the bread?

I turned my back to him and closed the door so I could feel safe.

Perhaps I am a sucker, I thought. Let it not be recorded in my book of life , when I one day stand in front of the pearly gates, and the gatekeeper refuses me entrance because I turned a hungry man away when I had plenty to give.

I went to the kitchen and spread some marg and apricot jam onto a slice of bread and grabbed a bottle of water and took it to him to still my conscience - or balance my heavenly books … whatever.

I could have given him much more, but I still was not convinced that he was honest.

O, I wish I lived in a country where we can trust people again.
I am at heart a Samaritan but here in South Africa it as called “a sucker”!

Original post from : (http://grannypolitics.iblog.co.za)