An October Parable

Strictly speaking, a parable is nothing more than a brief story detailing some kind of moral or religious lesson. They merely differ from the fable in that parables do not rely solely on animals or natural objects, but utilize human beings to convey the message. In this sense, what I'm about to relate is not actually a parable, as it is the retelling of an actual event - parables are fictional creations. But I'm going ahead anyway, because it seems to have at least something to do with getting at a conundrum particular to the human experience - the ways in which a good deed can harm another, and the means by which we measure the harm we dole out to others.

With a one-gallon plastic water jug in one hand and some coins in my pocket, I set out over the Vermont Street pedestrian bridge to the nearby shopping complex in order to replenish our water supply. The water in San Diego is not to our taste. The water dispenser charges 30 cents per gallon (a 5 cent increase from our old digs in Ocean Beach). I had counted out coins for what I thought was just enough to fill up the water jug.

On my way towards the water machine, I walked past a slouched, heavyset young man with a thick beard, a full mane and a tired expression. His backpack rested beside him as he slumped on a bench near the Trader Joe's. He was clearly down on his luck. "Can you spare any change, sir?" he asked as I walked by. The thought quickly raced through my mind that I only carried with me enough coins to fill the water jug, and had left my wallet at home. If I gave this young man even a nickle, I would then have to turn around and walk home without filling my water jug. In this case, my needs outweighed his, I reasoned. I said, "Sorry, man," and shook my head with what I hoped seemed a sincere grimace of regret. He said something to the effect of "have a nice day," and I walked on.

While filling up the water jug at the nearby water machine, I discovered to my surprise that I had actually grabbed an extra coin on my way out the door, and that four dimes lay inside my pocket, rather than the exact-change three. And while a measly ten cents wasn't going to make the difference in whether or not this down-on-his-luck fellow spent the evening outside, I could at least give him one coin and not pretend that I could not afford to help out a struggling individual. I felt pretty good about this, having gotten my water yet still able to give away.

However, as I turned from the water machine and walked towards the down-on-his-luck individual, I saw that a new, equally rumpled and down-on-his-luck individual had sat down on the bench immediately preceding the young man I'd earlier spoken to. This individual was older and rougher, and seemed to have been weathering the streets for a lifetime. He watched me approach and as I came near, he asked, "Can you spare a little change, fellah?"

And there I was, equidistant between this new individual and the other individual who'd previously asked me for spare change and to whom I'd said no. This previous individual looked up at the sound of the older man's voice, and could see and hear all. So the decision became : do I hand over the dime that I now knew was sitting available in my pocket, in full view of the individual I had just refused to hand any coins over to? Or did I say "sorry" to this newer individual and then give the coin over to the individual who'd previously asked me for help? In either case, I risked upsetting or insulting the other party, by seeming to suggest I had money for one and not for the other, or that I was choosing favorites in my decision to hand over money.

There was, of course, a third option, which was to say "sorry" to the new individual and then walk past the original individual, also without giving up my dime. In a way, this seemed utterly ridiculous, a real lose-lose situation. On the other hand, given the fact that I only had a single coin in my pocket (which couldn't be divided up in any way) and given the fact that in no way could I hand over the coin to one party without the other seeing me do so after denying them the same, it seemed perhaps the wisest choice. And so this is what I did. I said "sorry" to the newer individual and walked past the original one. The newer man yelled out something about how he wanted a "cheese-bugger".

So, did my decision not to give either individual my coin stem from a desire not to hurt or insult the other, which, in a way, is mostly just thinking about myself (i.e., this will be awkward and uncomfortable)? Or was it a legitimate response to a situation that was going to be impossible to resolve in a way that wasn't awkward or uncomfortable? In the long run, was a dime going to make any long-term difference in the lives of these two individuals? Would ten cents go farther in creating positive results than any negative results that might be created through a seeming act of disdain? Or was this the most brutal sort of social darwinism, avoiding the awkward social encounter deemed ultimately more important than committing an act of empathy or selflessness?

And this, of course, is why I have trouble sleeping at night.