Worthy causes

The past week has seen me back in my old stomping ground of Carlton a fair bit. It's always an interesting experience returning, feeling at once just I've never left and like it's years since my life revolved around that place.

One of the more awkward aspects of city life that I am always reminded of when I go back is the very challenging question of when to give money to beggars - and they abound on Lygon St, particularly outside Lygon Court. I never worked out a consistent strategy to adopt when I lived there, and am no more consistent when I go back. On Tuesday night, going to the Nova to watch a film with my old housemate from the latter Carlton days, we were approached by someone asking for money to get him and his uncle somewhere. My friend obliged with some small change, and so I felt like I might as well. I only had about $1.50, plus a few 5 and 10 cent pieces, so I got out the $1 and the 50 cents and handed it over - only, we were standing just over a drain and, much to our collective horror, the $1 fell out of my fingers and through the grate. The man stood over the drain, looking in and saying, "Is there any way of getting it out?" I didn't really know what to do - I only had what I had already dismissed as worthless shrapnel left in my wallet, which I instantly took out and gave to him as some means of making amends. The larger notes in my wallet seemed too much to give him as well - why, I wonder? Was I playing it safe, and figuring that he could hardly do much damage to himself with only 70 cents, whereas $20...well, who knew what he might do?

What stood out for me most from the whole experience was that I wouldn't miss that dollar coin that was now circulating somewhere in Carlton's sewerage system. I had parted with it because it didn't mean a lot to me, and so I was no worse off. To that man, though, the dollar was worth enough that he even contemplated climbing into the drain to get it. Speech of Arrested Development had it right, I suppose, when he said, "Two dollars is a snack to me, but it means a big deal to you." Pity "Mr Wendall" hasn't dated very well. The social message was probably once very profound.

Then, last night, I sat outside Vina Bar, sadly soon to be closed down, with some friends from my book group, when we were approached by a girl, probably about twelve years old, who was selling handmade friendship bands. We declined her offer without much thought. I wondered as she passed what she was selling them for. I had no use for a friendship band, but would probably give her money for one if it was for a good cause. One of my friends must have had the same idea, calling the girl back to ask what she was raising money for. The girl's answer was that she was trying to buy all the "Twilight" merchandise. I tried to hold back my amusement while a couple of my friends engaged her in conversation about "Twilight" and why it was important to her. The girl was delighted, clearly, to share her love of the books, and her hopes for the movie, just released on DVD - and, I must admit, while my snobbery made me feel that this was in no way a worthy cause, I suspect my friends had the better response to talk to her about it, and to make a gutsy twelve-year-old girl feel a bit more comfortable walking alone on Lygon Street on a Saturday night.

The lines to guide us in situations like this are fairly thin. If we aren't responding with love, we make every cause worthless. With love - even the most worthless of causes can gain some purpose.