Travel fills my heart
I love exploring newness
Until I see you
Sitting there with your palms out
Conflicted, I look away.
(I wrote this poem after seeing people begging in downtown Toronto and Ottawa this weekend. Some people give food. Some give money. Some even provide work. Some support organizations who work directly with those in need. But even when I have done some of those things, I don’t do them all the time for each and every person in need. I feel ashamed and guilty when I choose not to and ask myself why not this time? Conflicted, I whisper a soft sorry as I hurry to escape both my discomfort and their’s.)
I have pondered this for years. And I suppose, I will continue to do so. How do you respond to begging?