Teaching Compassion

After I picked Kiernan up from school today we stopped at the grocery store. We wanted to pick up some soup for Wendy, as she's been battling some nasty icky cold. As I drove the cart--in this case a large blue cart made to look like a race car so that your kid finds shopping less boring--to the cart parking area and prepared to take my boy and the groceries to the car, Kiernan made me stop.

A man sat in a short folding chair, a beach-type chair, next to the entrance to the store. A big old dog that looked like a golden retriever was lying down on a blanket next to him. The man held before himself a hand-lettered cardboard sign. The sign was asking for money, proclaiming that his dog had cancer. Furthermore, the sign stated that his dog was a "service" dog.

"Dad," Kiernan whispered to me. "Are you going to give him some money?"

I held my breath for a second. I never give people who panhandle outside of stores or next to the freeway money. Never. I don't believe in it. Wendy does. She buys five dollar gift cards from Subway and has them in her car and gives them out to folks like that. That's fine. That's her thing. I don't do that because I don't believe in doing that. We give a lot of money to charity every year, including charities that feed the homeless. That's how I prefer to do it.

"I wasn't planning to," I replied.

"But Dad," Kiernan said to me, his eyes wide. "His dog has cancer." He spoke so that only I could hear. My back was to the man, blocking Kiernan from his view.

The way he whispered that to me broke my heart a little. The idea of trying to lay out how we donate money to animal shelters and folks like Project Angel Food and Habitat for Humanity in that split second seemed utterly ridiculous. I have to admit, when I see a guy like that I don't believe his dog has cancer. I don't even believe his dog is a service dog. I'm cynical about stuff like that.

But what could I do in that moment. My son, looking to me, pleading with such urgency in his tiny voice. Looking to me for guidance.

"Do you want to give him some money?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

I took out my wallet and gave Kiernan a dollar, then I lifted him out of the racing car cart. He went over to the man and gave him the money. The man thanked us profusely, and we went on our way.

Was that the right thing to do? I don't know. But, at that moment, it was the best thing to do.

I learn from my son. He helps me to teach him too.