91. Help Me Feed My Son

I was at the Clark and Lake Blue Line stop waiting for my train back home after a much needed shopping trip, when I'm approached by a man and his kid. He asks me with sadden eyes,

"Excuse me, Miss. Could you spare some change to help me feed my son?"

"I'm sorry, I don't have any on me." I replied.

I look down at the boy, who was probably about 5 years old, getting distracted by all the people in the station. He looks at me as his dad walks him away and says,

"Thanks mean lady!" And kicks in my direction.

Quite a bit ran through my head. I am halfway between, "This is not my responsibility" and "But it kind of is."
earlier in the week, I spent way too much in cash at The Flat Iron. My boozy night or food for that kid. This is how I think.

I once dated a guy who would get visibly angry every time someone pan handled him for change, his face getting red as he walked away saying "How DARE they ask me for my hard earned money!" Lack of empathy is one of the more unattractive qualities, in my sincere opinion.

The thing is, I'm happy to spare a little something if I can, but I can't often. If I flip myself to be on the other side, while I'm confident I would have a spot on more than a few couches between here and the east coast  if I ever got close to that level of helpless, I still feel deeply for the people that aren't so lucky. At this point, my biggest pill is my education. The irony is insane. Still, I am not in the position where I can hang out of survival mode for more than a few seconds. I could spare change for every person I see with an empty cup, but could I?

I feel guilty until I get home. My roommate asks me for two dollars so she can take the bus to her dad's. I tell her what pocket she can find it in inside my purse.

I resolve that we have to take care of our own first, before we extend outward. While I'm not of the religious kind, I sent a shout out to the universe hopping that the man in the train station gets a consistent means to feed his son.