More often than not, we give because it’s convenient. A homeless veteran begs for food, and you think, “I could give him my leftover spaghetti.” Or your backyard garden produces 200 pounds of zucchini, and you wonder, “How many of my neighbors like zucchini bread?” These thoughts cross our minds every day, and sometimes we choose to take meaningful action because it is easy.
For the people on the receiving end, a gift may mean survival … the difference between a freezing night on the street and a warm bed. It may mean validation or the hope for a better year. So how do we give when it isn’t convenient? We resolve to.
It’s New Year’s Eve and I’ve dragged a friend of mine to a Christian conference in Downtown Denver. Though it is one of the coldest days of the year, we’re planning to spend much of it inside the comfortable halls of the Hyatt Convention Center. Then we’re struck by a shift in the agenda: Everyone is sorted into groups and herded outside to “engage” the city.
Our group of five quickly stakes out a street corner on the 16th Street Mall. For hours, we take turns holding a sign bearing the words, “I WILL LISTEN.” To keep from freezing, we shuffle across slick pavers, chasing elusive the pockets of sun that dart between the buildings. The wind picks up and chunks of ice bombard us from the Daniels & Fisher Tower above. Given the weather, and that only few people have stopped to talk with us about our sign, we decide to migrate inside. However, just before we head into Starbucks, a man approaches, his extended hand clutching a five-dollar bill.
“Can I help you out?” he asks, signaling to the sign held by my friend Sarah.
“Oh … uh, thanks. We aren’t asking for money though. We’re actually just here to listen to people,” she replies.
“I just wanted to see if you needed help. I know what it’s like to fall on hard times,” he explains, tears welling up in his eyes. His words gush with his tears as he tells us his story.
The generous stranger’s name is Jared. For three weeks, his family has been homeless. Today, his wife and two kids are moving between stores on the 16th Street Mall to stay warm while he hunts for a job as a line-cook. Luckily, his family has been given a place to stay for the night. That’s why he offered us the money—he thought we “needed it more.”
The five members of my group stand in helpless awe of Jared and his story. After a few moments and a group hug, we pray with Jared for a better year and offer to buy him a meal. Despite being hungry, he has to find his wife and kids before nightfall. He turns to go, and in perfect unison, we all say “Happy New Year!” Smiling, we part ways.
Looking back on New Year’s Eve, I witnessed a powerful lesson taught by a generous man on hard times. Like the biblical widow commended for giving two coins despite her poverty, Jared offered money to us despite being homeless himself. Although we did not need to accept his gift, we received something much more meaningful and beautiful: a perfect example of giving. Giving is more than just an action. It’s an interaction. And when we resolve to engage with those around us, we encounter opportunities to both give and receive, to be both generous and thankful. We experience the Jared moments in life.
The New Year is here, and resolutions are upon us. I’m not typically someone who makes resolutions, and when I do, they are often focused on improving my own life. Study smarter. Run faster. Sleep more. However, after that chilly New Year’s Eve, something warmed inside of me. I have been inspired to be generous even when it’s not convenient, to listen to other people even when the cold air stings my ears. I resolve to give. I resolve to be more like Jared.
Garrett Mayberry studies Spanish and Portuguese, leadership and international affairs at the University of Colorado at Boulder.
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