We moved a lot when I was growing up: I had lived in seven different houses and school systems by the time I graduated from high school— and my family moved again after I went to college! Aside from the hassles of packing, unpacking, etc., the biggest challenge was friends— leaving old ones (with no smart phones or social media staying in touch mostly meant mailing letters, which didn’t happen very often) and finding new ones. That definitely made our family closer. And I always seemed to find kids generous enough to offer friendship to a newcomer.
One of these was a very popular kid in Urbandale, Iowa,
named Greg Davis. He had older brothers (we were in 7th grade) and played drums
in their band, knew a lot about parties, and was generally very cool. I was
new, awkward, had chosen to wear the head-brace for my braces in school so I
could get rid of them sooner (in 9 months, as it turned out, instead of the
predicted 2 years—and with an unexpected $700 rebate to my parents!!), and was
generally not cool. Yet for some reason we were friends. Greg taught me a
lesson about generosity that I will always remember, though it was a little
thing.
One day we sat down to work on math together and I had
paper, but no pencil. Without hesitating, he quickly broke his new pencil in
half, handed me the half with a sharpened point, and was off to the sharpener
to sharpen the broken half—all before I even understood what he was doing. The
simple creativity of his solution surprised me, but it was his innate and
immediate generosity that struck me. I’ve always remembered that as the essence
and heart of generosity.
While we tend to associate generosity with big gifts, it’s
really about selflessly doing what we can to meet the needs of others. If there
is a shortage of food or water, sharing just a little can be very generous. In
the chapter on Faith, I mention the story of the Widow’s mite—the tiny contribution
she made was enormous, given her poverty. And such deceptively sacrificial
generosity doesn’t only come in the form of money—people with less energy,
strength, or other gifts may be contributing a far greater portion of what they
have to get something done than someone who can do the same thing or more with
little effort. We need to notice and recognize efforts and gifts of each person
by portion as well as by size.
It may seem strange, but, I believe that how we consider and
make our purchases can reflect an attitude of generosity. Many people responded
to the pandemic by buying takeout dinners from their favorite restaurants to
help the restaurants and their employees make it through, when it would have
been easier to stay home and hide. And we are all familiar with bake-sales, car
washes, and other fundraisers to help schools, clubs, and other organizations
we support earn some extra resources. Some might argue this is acting in
self-interest, since we often benefit from it (though we often benefit from
generosity and other kind acts!!), but I think generosity can motivate us to
consider new or different purchases – to open our minds and sense of the market
to include businesses, and consider making purchases, we might not otherwise.
To be clear, I’m not suggesting that we purchase things we don’t value—that
will confuse producers, causing them to believe there is an ongoing market
where there isn’t one and mistakenly invest to sustain or expand, and we will
have done them harm rather than good. But by opening our minds, we give new or
unknown businesses and products a chance—and might just discover some new thing
we appreciate or enjoy or otherwise value. Among other things, that could mean
exploring small local restaurants instead of just sticking with familiar chains
when you’re visiting a new town—you might just discover a gem you want to go
back to in future visits!!
And, as discussed in the chapter on Thanks, receiving gifts
with graciousness and gratitude can be a form of generosity—even if the gift
isn’t a good fit, the thought and effort can be authentically appreciated.
There are many forms generosity can take, but I will share
one last form. Most people are not worthy of trust. As hard as I try to be
responsible and reliable, I’m not always worthy of trust, among other things,
overscheduling myself, resulting in promises made that can’t all be kept. In my
experience, only God is worthy of trust. That said, trying to trust people is
an important gift that you can give—and, as with all giving, it can enrich
lives of everyone involved.
One of my favorite
stories about trust occurred when my wife and I went to Kenya for two weeks in
1988 with nothing but the first night’s hotel scheduled (it was before the
internet and I wanted something more authentic than a tour, and to interact—and
transact—with locals to the largest extent possible.) On our way back to the
hotel from church (in Swahili!) the first morning, a young man named George
approached us and offered to set up all of our travel plans. We had never met
or heard of him and he didn’t have an office, but he seemed knowledgeable and
confident, so we agreed to listen to him (again, I had been hoping to interact
and transact with locals).
After a few minutes he introduced us to an older woman, also
on the street and without an office, who, after hearing our plans, said we
needed to give her $300 in cash to make reservations at the places we wanted to
stay, the first of which was Treetops [famous, among other reasons, because
Queen Elizabeth and her husband were staying there the night her father (the
King) died, so she “went up a princess and came down the Queen”], which was a
hard reservation to get. My wife, quite reasonably, asked, before we handed
over the $300 (which was all we had—though, in my defense, I believed I could
get more cash if necessary), whether the woman (who had not shared her name)
had at least a business card. In response, the woman produced an old beat up
card (it wasn’t clear if or how she was affiliated with the business named on
the card) and scrawled the word/name Charity at the top of it in pencil. Once
the transaction was completed, my wife said it wasn’t lost on her that we were
giving our money to Charity. Despite that, we went ahead.
When we arrived at Treetops with the other guests (the rooms
were extremely small so you met at a bigger house and left most of your luggage
there and then took a bus to Treetops together), the hosts began calling out
guest names and their assigned rooms, “Smith, 13. Jones, 5…” and ended with
“Clyde, B,” which didn’t sound good. But we were then escorted to the Queen’s
Suite, which had three beds, a balcony, and a private bathroom with a shower
(all other rooms barely had room for two single beds and used a shared bathroom
down the hall.) And at dinner we found out that we had paid about 1/3 of what
the other guests had paid! So it turned out that our trust in Charity was well
placed, even if it seemed almost comically risky at the time! And, like many
gifts, it was a blessing to us as well as her.
Trusting people can give them confidence, strengthen
relationships, and even help those trusted become more trustworthy. It can be
risky, so, again, it takes wisdom, but the gift of trusting someone can be
life-changing for all concerned.
Pulling all of this together, like so many other virtues,
fostering a spirit of generosity will be valuable both to you, and to everyone
you meet.
Comments
Post a Comment