More thoughts on poverty

We're confronted by it daily here, and it is so much different than the young woman asking me to buy a roast chicken in the Cub parking lot on Lake Street in Minneapolis. That I can do.

But here it hits you so much harder, and often. Today on my way back from some errands, a young teenage girl was sitting on the sidewalk, clearly not where she really lives. She was alone. She jumped up when she saw me and started asking me for money. Usually, I carry biscuits (crackers), but didn't have any with me, and often after you've given them food, they still persist for money anyway. I kept walking, the pain and self hate growing inside. The internal battle that happens everytime. I think of Jesus and his teachings, or, even just from listening to my brother talk about these things, and all I want to do is get rid of everything I own and give it to the poor. But, the last thing I want is to give to a begging ring, or be a part of exploiting this girl. The tour guide yesterday at Dharavi talked about how slum people are all employed, and the street people choose to live that way, that they would rather just beg than work. That there would be jobs for them if they wanted, but, that they can often get more from the begging rings. But then this involves exploiting children, or injuries inflicted on people to look more pathetic and needy. I wondered how much truth their is in those statements. But it scares me enough to not want to ever give money.

Why have I been given such a privileged life? Every step away, and every step she follows, for three blocks, breaks my heart, over and over again. Because regardless of who put her on that street, she is still a young woman, whether trapped by circumstance, or there by choice, that is in need, and I have so much more than I will ever need. I say a prayer for her, and finish my walk home.

I know I will never have the answer for this. But I do know that after living here, I will never complain about money again.

Rachel