Panhandlers

I saw a Facebook post earlier this week about “panhandlers,” who have become a regular sight at the stoplight near our local supercenter store.

The author wrote that he was confessing to “a lack of compassion” that he acknowledged was making him uncomfortable because he was making judgments about people about whom he knows nothing.

I can empathize. It’s difficult for me to imagine that all the people I see begging for money are actually incapable of working, of finding gainful employment, of doing something to better their own situation outside of relying on the kindness of strangers to put food on their table.

Panhandlers have become ubiquitous. My wife and I travel to central Arkansas often to visit our kids and grandkids. Lisa’s daughter, Lauren, is a nursing student at the University of Central Arkansas in Conway. Every time we visit Conway, there is at least one person at every interstate on-ramp holding up a sign explaining that they need help.

While I don’t believe that all of these folks are really incapable of fending for themselves, I know that some of them do need help. And that’s the tough part. If we assume they are all just looking for an easy buck, then we miss an opportunity to help someone with a real need. But if we assume they all really are in need, then we no doubt will be handing over our hard-earned money to someone who’s simply taking advantage of us.

This is not to say that I haven’t occasionally given money or food to someone under these circumstances. Sometimes, it’s just a gut feeling that leads me to hand over a couple of bucks or go to a nearby drive-thru and pick up a meal for someone who’s asking for food. I always feel good about what I’ve done afterward, even with the possibility that I’ve been scammed. I know my intentions were good and if the recipient’s weren’t, that’s their issue and not mine.

In July of 2022, Lisa and I were in Memphis for a press association convention. On our last morning there, we decided to venture out for breakfast. On our way into the restaurant — if you ever get a chance, check out The Arcade; Elvis had his own booth there — we were approached by a man on a bicycle.

He was friendly enough and helped us find the right door to go inside. He told me he was about to start a job the following week but wondered if I could help him get some food for his wife and daughter. He didn’t need to eat, he said, but he wanted to make sure they were fed.

I invited him to come inside and while Lisa found us a table, I took him to the register at the front and told him to order whatever he liked and to make sure and get something for himself, too.

I can’t remember how much his order came to, but I know it wasn’t more than $30. There’s a chance that the story he told me wasn’t true. There’s a chance he could have bought his own breakfast. There’s even a chance, I suppose, that he took the food I paid for and traded it for something else. There’s a chance that money — less than $30 — went toward a purpose other than I intended it for.

But there’s also a chance that a man and a woman and their daughter got to eat breakfast that morning when they otherwise might not have. There’s a chance that was their only meal that day. There’s a chance I did something good for my fellow man.

More than a year later, I can look back on the experience and feel good about that. That’s worth more to me than $30.

I’m not suggesting that we all give all our money away to folks who say they need help. But I am suggesting that every now and then, if you have a sixth sense about someone having a real need, it’s OK to take the chance.

••• Scott Loftis is editor and publisher of the Carroll County News. His email address is SLoftis@CarrollCoNews. com.