I spent most of my in big cities – I’ve lived and work in New York City (three times), Boston,  Providence, Philadelphia, Baltimore,  Dallas and Washington, D.C. In each of these cities I learned gradually and over time to be careful about giving money to people on the street, even if they look poor, are huddling with sad-eyed dogs, or freezing on a cold winter night.

I don’t care to be heartless, and I take to heart the sacred injunction to give hope to the poor. But it is never so simple. Too often, the money bought drugs or alcohol, or went to exploiting a dog  or kind heart. As a reporter, I saw the other side of panhandling, it was often ugly and deceptive and those coins often went to buy some bad things.

It is just not possible to know on the street who is in genuine need of help or what they might do with it, so I gave money instea, at the recommendation of social workers everywhere,  to places and organizations that I knew would meet the real needs of poor people and knew how to help with things like rent and medical care. But it is never simple to walk away from people in pain, or people in need, especially when our governments and so many people who call themselves people of faith have turned against them.

I smile or sometimes look a way, I try and say “no thank you.” It never feels good, one way or the other.

Some places test this understandable but somewhat  weary notion about giving money to people on the street, Brattleboro, Vt. is one of them. The town is filled with students, kids, street people and nice people with no money. Some of these kids – travelers and runaways – are hungry and alone. It’s hard to walk away from them, although I most often do. Today, there was  a woman sitting on the street and she looked just down on her luck.

Her eyes were warm and sad.

Something about her face touched me, I didn’t look away or nod politely. “Are you having a bad today?,” I asked. yes, she said, it was her birthday and she had just had a run of very bad luck. Life was just beating on her, she said. Any little thing.

There was no guile in her face, no manipulation, she just looked sad. I gave her some money on impulse – some of my impulses are good and true. And asked if I could take her picture.

She thanked me, said yes to the picture. Giving is always a selfish act, we do it for us as much as for them. It’s hard because it seems to me sometimes that no one wants to take responsibility for the poor or troubled any longer, not even the good people of faith. I am not a Christian, but I am a follower of Jesus Christ, it seems so many of the people invoking his name have little idea what he is about. If he were alive today, I have little doubt he would be little bands of righteous people to storm the churches and temples where the poor are often evoked, but rarely helped.

He would give the high priests and rabbis a very hard time.

I told her I like her sign “any act of kindness”  had a ring to it, and I hope her days turn brighter. Just around the corner, a man in a flannel shirt and wool cap came up to me, saw my camera and clothes, and asked if I could help him. “No, thanks,” I mumbled, nodding and turning away.