The Skin Flint

I recently heard at a campfire discussion, a friend talk about how he loves giving things to people. The wife chimed in, yea, he’d give everything away , even our groceries!
  I had to laugh because my wife and I are the same way. Except I’m the tight wad. I can squeeze buffalo poop out of an American nickel.  
 Recently however I’ve had a change in heart and have been discovering the joy of philanthropy.  Not big philanthropy just little stuff. Like a few bucks here and there, not millions. When I think of a philanthropist, I think of a mega rich old guy that has run out of things to spend his money on, or a wannabe politician trying to earn some brownie points to look good. It’s totally contrary to my nature and it kind of grew on me gradually over the past 10 years. I really don’t know how I got started down this path but it’s changed my whole way of thinking about money.  
 What would give you more pleasure out of a $20 bill, spending it on some useless trinket, or helping someone that really needs it?  I don’t think those rich philanthropists just suddenly decided to be one. It was probably a life habit of generosity built up over years of practice. Life is not all about squeezing the most money out of it and consuming it as quickly as we can. When I was a child, I learns to share my toys. What happened when I grew up and became self centered with my possessions? 
 I had an hour to wait for our ride to the airport in Kampala. I sat on a rock on the side of the road to watch the traffic. I was fascinated by a culture so totally different than mine. A woman walked up and asked me for some money to buy food.  I could barely understand her English but she said she and her 4 children were destitute.  I thought about the $5 in my pocket I was saving for a Starbucks at the airport. That was probably a months provision for her family.  It was a quick and painless descision. She left then came back 5 minutes later with someone to interpret for her who thanked me profusely for my generosity and told me how much it meant to her as her husband had died. She wasn’t asking for more, just grateful for what I had given her. 
 I was reduced to tears. God, you cared so much for this poor widow that you sent me 1/2 way around the world to meet her need. Thankyou.    More please. 

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