Begging for Hope

Happy Labor Day. 

Saw this girl working at a chokepoint in traffic begging for money. At first I thought how sad, she is begging in the rain. I want to give her money. But then I saw her 1L plastic bottle stuffed with bills inside. Anyone else would be inside or under an awning, out of the pouring rain. Even the truly poor would be sheltering from the rain. But in this rain here, she was approaching stopped vehicles for money. A professional beggar, rain or shine she shows up to work, begging for money. Money no good for her. Maybe she gives it to someone else. 

The situation was so sad looking I still wanted to give her money. But likely it was not going to her. What else could I give her? I could give her food. I did have food with me! I looked down at the brown bag beside me. What did I have inside there that I could give her? 

I reached out for the bag, but no! These contents belonged to someone else. I could not give away what was meant for someone else, to a professional beggar on the street no matter how sorry the situation. It was not my job to help her. I would just have to sit tight in my bumpy tuk tuk ride and wait until I arrived at hope, to whom I would be going.

Arriving with hope was also hard. The journey was noisy, full of fits and starts, buffeted by wind and rain. I would not make this journey myself unless for someone else. But still, arriving there is always hard and leaving the place of hope even harder. The situation they face, all alone, with no family to support them. Yes, if my little play-doh helps the girl play and eases the mom’s mind for an hour or two, then I would put aside my feelings of hopelessness and go.

Strangely, years ago, I taught English in this country. I wasn’t a good teacher but the kids admitted I was their favorite teacher. Now, here I sit on the floor, babysitting, while another teaches. I don’t even like babysitting. Yet, this is my new role in this state of hope, to babysit while patiently waiting for the next stage of life to arrive…