Dignity Dollars

It sounds catchy, doesn't it? The words played in my head over and over for weeks until I picked dignity dollars up.

I never gave money to people on the street. I am a student and do not have much cash. I give my tzedakah/charity dollars to causes who do work with people on the street (or other such places). I work at a soup kitchen and volunteer my time.

BUT, I really value seeing...looking at people on the street, people who are suffering. Looking someone in the eye and saying, No, I am sorry, I have nothing to give you right now. But I hope you are doing ok out here. God Bless... Something like that.

And then I would walk off, feeling unsettled. Did I help enough? How awful to be in a position to have to ASK for change to get by. There is no dignity in having to ask for loose change. And I always felt like I only enhanced the lack of dignity there by saying no.

See, it was my mom who inspired me. during recent conversation, she said she was committing to putting change by the door so she could have it in her pocket to hand to people when they asked. It is a great idea. Sitting at home, I had this tzedakah box full of change. I have trained myself to put change in...but I have not yet figured out how to take it out and use it until now.

I moved the money into a jam jar which sits by my front door. I take a handful of change on my way out the door and seek to give it out all day. In New York City, it is not hard. And even if people do things with the money I do not like or even if someone is lying and does not need the cash...no big deal! I have only given a little bit of change. And more often then not, I feel like the people who are asking are genuine.


But then, the amazing thing happened...The more I have been doing this, the more change I have been handing out...well, the more and more giving I feel, the more and more generosity I encounter in the world, the more of me I feel I have to give.

I really noticed it when I went a few days and did not give the change out. had it in my pocket, but let myself get so busy that I was not seeing the people who needed it, I was not thinking about people in need, I was absorbed thinking about myself, my own life. The system collapsed, the warm generous feeling in the world was gone.

It is strange and this feels so hokey to write...but the more I am giving, the more I am getting. Now, at the end of the day, a measure or success of my day, the way I measure MY dignity is not how full, but rather how empty my pockets are.