On Compassion

Its a day just like any other. Walking around the streets of New York to get to my particular destination. Shopping, an eatery, work, it all depends on the day. As I stand waiting for the light to illuminate the man walking, my eye become fixed on the man in raggedy clothing, dreadlocks, and a solemn look. He looked hungry, cold, and unhappy. I don't know how people survive like this, how they go off of nothing, literally running on empty.

I look at the man, clearly much less fortunate than I, and I decide to do my good deed of the day. I rummage through my purse searching for any bit of green I can possibly lay my eyes on. Quite honestly, he was creeping me out and I wanted to get away from the situation. I finally scrounge up a dollar bill and hurriedly hand it to the poor man. It takes him a while to finally understand my generous gesture, what did he think I was gonna kill him? Was I attacking his pride? None the less he accepted the dollar and we went on our merry ways.