The beggar at the Pharmacy

Contribution requests are a frequent occurrence in my life.  Each month I receive a stack of mail from agencies servicing the poor and another stack from museums and theaters asking for financial help.  Usually I am very generous, but lately I've had to cut back on giving away my money.  Still, when some poor soul asks me for a few cents, I become very compassionate, and it's hard to say "no."

The other evening, on my way home from choir practice, I stopped at the nearby pharmacy.  It was dark outside and the air was chilly as we head into winter.  A man standing in the entrance looked at me and said "Brr" as he wrapped his arms around himself.  He was a jolly little man with a round belly that jiggled when he laughed.  His cheeks were merry and dimpled as he held out his hand jingling a few coins.  No, this wasn't Santa Claus.  He was dressed in drap tannish loose pants and a scantily fitting sweatshirt that showed his abdomen, and he was asking me for some change.  At first, I thought "no," but I felt cold so I felt sorry for him.  I said, "Maybe on the way out."  I purchased my items, and then left the store, walking right in front of the man.  With his hand out with the few coins, he told me he only had 17 cents, so I reached into my purse and pulled out a $1.00 bill and handed it to him.  He said "A dollar!" in a surprised tone.  "Thanks.  Now I have $1.17."  I felt really good and went to my car.

Then as I started the engine, I looked up at the man.  He reached into his pocket  with a serious expression on his face and pulled out a sock which was bulging, put the money in it and then put the sock back in his pocket.  He repositioned the change in his right hand and the sincere, jovial expression came back on his face as he reached out to his next customer.  I just shook my head, smiled, and backed out of the parking space.  I've been dupped again--but this time I thought it was funny. 

Merry Christmas.