Altruism

The lad’s Dad and I have tried to raise him with a concern and compassion for people struggling in this world to make their frayed ends meet or who suffer from life events and circumstances that leave them devastated. And we’ve been mostly successful. He’s been a frequent participant in fundraising and walks for breast cancer, the homeless, and battered women. He has volunteered his time and has been known to part with crisp currency when he meets a homeless person on the street. And we’re proud of him for that.

Now he has a job. One of the things he learned is that his employer participates in the United Way and expects their employees to contribute through weekly payroll deductions. He thought this sounded like an excellent plan and when asked how much he would contribute each week, he named a rather large sum. Instead of questioning his figure, they rubbed their hands together gleefully and gave him a fancy backpack with the store’s logo on it. Along with a big pat on the back.

He told me about it last night, as he opened his paycheck, and my jaw hit the floor. “What were you thinking?” I squeaked.

“There are a lot of people out there who need the money more than I do,” he said.

“Yeah, but,” I said, “The object here isn’t to give so much away that you have to get a second job to pay your obligations. You do remember that you’re obligated to pay your own car insurance, right?”

He shrugged. “I’ll be okay.”

And then I heard myself say the words, “You know, sweetie, there’s a difference between being generous and being foolish with your money. This was irresponsible.” And then I added, “Wait until your Dad finds out.” I can’t believe I said that.

When the Dad heard the news on the phone, I heard his bellow come out the lad’s other ear. “You did what?!” After a brief conversation, the lad handed me the phone and said, “Dad wants to talk to you.”

“Did you know about this?” he thundered.

“Noo, I didn’t,” I said. “And I’m just about as pleased with it as you seem to be.”

“Huh,” he sighed. “What in the world runs through his mind?” And then he added, “His better impulses turn into powerful learning experiences, don’t they?”

Indeed, they do.

I’m not sure that the lad can go back in and reduce his contribution until the next enrollment cycle.  So, he may be stuck with his generosity for a while. His paycheck this week after his deductions, for two days of work, netted him a grand total of $5.70. I’m contemplating which part of fiscal responsibility we left out of our lessons about altruism and its place in real life.

This child never ceases to astonish.