by Lindy Davies
I am someone who tends to give to panhandlers. I got tired of wrestling with my conscience every time a poor person asked for help, and I could afford the 50¢ (though nowadays it’s inflated to $1). When I went wandering about New York City on weekends, I made sure to have a supply of quarters in my right front pocket — but, one weekday afternoon I was walking down Park Avenue, thinking of other matters, when a guy asked me for help. My hand went into the proper pocket, and came out holding a $20 bill. What could I do? I had to look him in the eye and say, “Sorry — this is all I have, and I can’t afford to give it to you.” Continue reading …