Warning

Warning: this post is not funny, nor will it feature pictures of the girls.

Last night Steve and I were able to have a kid-free evening. We got a babysitter so that we could go have dinner and see a movie with another couple who also has young children. I am pretty sure it is the first time since Lucy or Caroline was born that both of us have been in a movie theater at the same time. We had one of my students watch the girls and it was a great night for Caroline and Lucy.

It was a great night for us too, but there was one moment that I don't think I will forget for a long time. Steve and I were leaving our dinner spot. We had just finished a great meal and a second round of drinks, and we were looking forward to heading to the movie. As we walked along a sidewalk next to a very busy road, we approached a woman who was pushing a stroller. She was not unlike most moms at this point in the week - she looked tired. She stopped us and handed us a note card and said in a very low voice, "I have two kids." Although I didn't read the entire note card we very quickly got the gist of the situation: she had two kids, she was in a tight spot, and she was looking for money.

Steve didn't have any cash, but I had a few dollars which I immediately gave to her. It was a fast transaction and all of us departed quickly.

I left feeling sad. I was sad for her and her family, and I wondered how much she needed and how long she and her kids have gone without necessities. I felt like my measly dollars weren't enough. I was wishing we had gone to the ATM before we went out.

Steve and I have had some months where money was tight, but I can't even begin to know what this woman is dealing with. I can't imagine what it is like to feel that your situation is dire enough to ask others for that kind of help.

I live in a bubble of excess. I teach students who spend more on clothes in a month than that woman probably makes for her entire family. I myself have the luxury of being able to afford to put food on the table, to wear nice clothes, and to give my kids the things that they need (and sometimes just want). I may have to cut back in order to get through a month, but the things I give up are trivial. I don't go to Dunkin Donuts to get my coffee. I don't buy that pair of sandals I want.

Simply put: I am lucky. My children live a good and safe life because I can provide it for them. I live in a bubble of excess which is surrounded by areas of despair. And I feel guilty about it.

My guilt is not because I have these things. Steve and I work hard, and we are proud of the family and home that we have created.

I feel guilt because I know that there is more I could be doing for the people in the community around me - particularly the people outside of the bubble.


So this experience rolls back and forth in my mind. It reminds me to be thankful for what I have, and it pushes me to give to others. I have some ideas right now about things I can do. I will keep you posted.