Giving

I can't keep cash on me.

I just can't do it.

It always seems to run away from me, and I have no one to blame but myself.

But here's the reason why:

During November and December of last year, I conducted several events where I received honoraria.  Rather than simply put all of it into my checking account, I kept out extra cash thinking I might need a few extra dollars on hand during the holiday season.

My wife and kids were out of town for a small stretch, and I decided to frequent a Mexican food restaurant I had never eaten at before.  (Usually, I have to scout out a Mexican food restaurant before taking the family.)  I enjoyed my meal and watched as the waitress tried to both wait tables and watch over her 2 to 3 year old daughter.  Her daughter actually came up to me several times while I was eating, smiling at me and giggling.  I, of course, winked at her and smiled back.

Mom wasn't exactly thrilled her daughter was bothering the customers, but it didn't bother me in the least.  I could tell by the way the girl was dressed and the fact that mom had her at work these folks weren't too high on the socio-economic ladder.  I wondered what Christmas was going to be like in their household.

I rose to pay my check.  My bill was just under $10.  My waitress was my cashier.  I handed her a $20 and walked out the door.  Didn't even wait to have her ask me if I wanted change.  Didn't wait to see her reaction.  Just walked out.  I hope she had a Merry Christmas.

On Monday, I traveled into Houston to visit a member who was having surgery.  I stopped at a Mexican food restaurant on Mason Rd. in Katy.  Las Manintias has excellent food, and it's one of my wife and my favorite places to dine.  With three kids, we don't get to go there as often as we'd like.  So, since I was traveling over lunch, I thought I'd treat my taste buds.

As I sat there giving full attention to my lunch, I heard a voice from above, "What are you doing here?"

I looked up to see one of my congregation members standing over me.  She just happens to be the daughter of my congregation president.

"I'm actually on my way to visit a member who's having surgery," I replied.

"Oh," she said with a "that stinks" inflection--in that it stinks for the person having surgery.

We made a bit of small talk before she headed to her table to meet a friend for lunch.  Both of them are school teachers.  My member has a young daughter and has been married for close to two years.  I remembered those early years my wife and I shared.  I remembered adjusting to having a young child and the extra expenses.  I remembered the kindness folks showed us by offering us small gifts as we adjusted to this new lifestyle.

When I finished, I asked my waiter for the check, and I added, "I'd like to pick up the check for those two ladies over there too."

When I paid, I was nearly wiped out of cash once more.  Just a few dollars left.

But it's worth it.

It's worth it to commit a random act of kindness and bring a smile to someone's face.

It's worth it to provide an example for others--as I have had that example provided for me so many times.

I have been blessed in my life.  My family and I are far from rich, but we practice giving.  We give 10% of our income back to the church which pays my salary.  We donate to local charities and organizations.  Whenever one of my congregation members asks us to purchase goods for the FFA or Extension Agency or the athletic club or Boy Scouts or Relay for Life, we give and we buy.  Without hesitation.  Whenever we have a special fundraiser for the youth or for a community member in need, we give.  It's become second nature.

There was a time when we couldn't do this, but we do now and will continue to do so.  I don't drive the fanciest of cars.  My family doesn't wear designer clothes.  We don't have all the latest technology and gadgets.  We don't take extravagant vacations.  We put off purchasing our wants and focus on our needs.  And part of the reason we do this is that we might give.

We have discovered the joy of giving, and we'll do so until we can't any longer.

Or, until I run out of cash again.