Love Sweet Love, or What the World Needs Now

Someday I will undertake to understand the kick in the gut and the subsequent tears that certain generosity brings. Once, I was so broke, I had to steal quarters from the parking drawer at work to get a sandwich from the Mobil station on the corner. When I say once, I mean, once upon a time in my life--it was a span of sandwiches and a season of thievery.

During that season, I was taking a weekly seminar where we all got to know and admire each other quite deeply. And as one of the evenings was wrapping up, the seminar leader, Pam, said, "Why don't we just look around the room and check in with everyone before we leave, see where we're at." She said it because huge tears were streaming down a face I couldn't keep straight to save my life. I was holding my breath trying not to make any sounds, so I was that dear-me-I'm-crying-and-can't-stop shade of red.

Someone, it turned out, had slipped a 50 into the book under my chair. When I bent down to gather my things and saw it there...oy. I opened my book and stared at the bill like a mouse had just walked on hind legs into the room bearing a hall pass and telling me in front of everyone to go to the vice principal's office. A mouse. In other words, what-the--?

And then I lost it. Tears from here to eternity in gratitude for the person who felt moved by me to the point that he quietly slipped an entire 50 into my possession. I could live a week on $50. I could buy groceries with that. Take the bus with the rest.

I think about those tears sometimes when someone's generosity tugs at me, noting the difference in my gut between now and then. Somewhere along the line I have discovered I am worthy of a generous offering, or someone's love, or their time. Worthy of a healthy paycheck, a full hour at lunchtime, and some help when I'm stressed. How do we get it into our heads that we're not worthy? And how might we smite the bigger issue of poverty if folks remembered that primary condition, worthiness?