If you have ever lived in city with public trains you are no doubt familiar with the beggar’s speech: A bum comes aboard and loudly exclaims something along the lines of “Excuse me ladies and gentleman!” and then proceeds to justify why he (or she) deserves your money. Everybody looks down. We all know the drill. Just let the guy give his speech. Maybe give him a buck. He’ll move on to the next car soon enough. Then you can go back about your business and let go of that wretched feeling in your gut.
A few days ago a middle-aged man went from perfectly healthy to horridly disfigured in an instant, the casualty of a terrible accident. Naturally he was taken to a hospital where he received treatment for his injuries. Of course a doctor cannot turn someone away who would otherwise be dead in a few hours, regardless of his insurance status. But death isn’t always the worst case scenario. This man received the absolute minimum care necessary for his survival and was then recast into the world a newborn cripple. No job. No money. No family. No functional body. No support system of any kind. To him death might seem a welcome deliverance.
It was this man who boarded my train yesterday to give his beggar’s speech. He was not high or deranged. He was, however, severely injured and in desperate need of assistance. He could barely walk with a rickety crutch under his right arm. The left was casted and slung, its wrist gnarled beyond repair. What teeth he had left jutted crookedly into his lips and his skin was badly burned. He genuinely needed assistance and decided to swallow his pride and reach for a helping hand. In doing so he gave a train car full of strangers the chance to exercise mindfulness and compassion. He gave us an invaluable gift, the opportunity to reflect on our own relationship with the suffering of others.
When his speech began first I looked to the floor. Then into his piteous eyes. Then around at my fellow passengers. A few people noisily continued their own conversations, completely disregarding this desperate man’s plea for help. Others stared silently at their cell phones, clearly too distracted or disturbed to give their full attention. Thankfully some did offer him the generosity of spare change. But regardless of how anyone outwardly reacted to this man’s history we all felt uncomfortable. Everyone wanted this beggar’s speech to be over before it even began.
That we have this immediate retching in response to the poverty of others is telling. We know something is terribly wrong with our world. People endure hardships beyond the purview of our own plenteous existence, and we choose to ignore them. We do not disregard them for lack of empathy but because poverty is ubiquitous, an unsolvable problem in a world where success is measured in dollars and personal wealth is achieved through competition rather than cooperation. Our gut feelings evidence that we all suffer at the hands of poverty, but society implores us to stay the course. To eat first and give second if at all. To believe that somehow our dream is separate from another's nightmare. We must reconnect with our gut, our intuition, the truest guide in a world wrought with agenda. We must conscientiously examine the state of our society, pay attention to our feelings, and act on them. Only then will we recognize that the border separating us from the impoverished is only a comforting illusion. Only then will we begin to recover from the pandemic of indifference.
-Michael
A few days ago a middle-aged man went from perfectly healthy to horridly disfigured in an instant, the casualty of a terrible accident. Naturally he was taken to a hospital where he received treatment for his injuries. Of course a doctor cannot turn someone away who would otherwise be dead in a few hours, regardless of his insurance status. But death isn’t always the worst case scenario. This man received the absolute minimum care necessary for his survival and was then recast into the world a newborn cripple. No job. No money. No family. No functional body. No support system of any kind. To him death might seem a welcome deliverance.
It was this man who boarded my train yesterday to give his beggar’s speech. He was not high or deranged. He was, however, severely injured and in desperate need of assistance. He could barely walk with a rickety crutch under his right arm. The left was casted and slung, its wrist gnarled beyond repair. What teeth he had left jutted crookedly into his lips and his skin was badly burned. He genuinely needed assistance and decided to swallow his pride and reach for a helping hand. In doing so he gave a train car full of strangers the chance to exercise mindfulness and compassion. He gave us an invaluable gift, the opportunity to reflect on our own relationship with the suffering of others.
When his speech began first I looked to the floor. Then into his piteous eyes. Then around at my fellow passengers. A few people noisily continued their own conversations, completely disregarding this desperate man’s plea for help. Others stared silently at their cell phones, clearly too distracted or disturbed to give their full attention. Thankfully some did offer him the generosity of spare change. But regardless of how anyone outwardly reacted to this man’s history we all felt uncomfortable. Everyone wanted this beggar’s speech to be over before it even began.
That we have this immediate retching in response to the poverty of others is telling. We know something is terribly wrong with our world. People endure hardships beyond the purview of our own plenteous existence, and we choose to ignore them. We do not disregard them for lack of empathy but because poverty is ubiquitous, an unsolvable problem in a world where success is measured in dollars and personal wealth is achieved through competition rather than cooperation. Our gut feelings evidence that we all suffer at the hands of poverty, but society implores us to stay the course. To eat first and give second if at all. To believe that somehow our dream is separate from another's nightmare. We must reconnect with our gut, our intuition, the truest guide in a world wrought with agenda. We must conscientiously examine the state of our society, pay attention to our feelings, and act on them. Only then will we recognize that the border separating us from the impoverished is only a comforting illusion. Only then will we begin to recover from the pandemic of indifference.
-Michael