I Hate Generosity

Well...I don't really. In fact, I think that to be generous is something that lies outside faith, country and socioeconomic boundaries, but what I hate is that when someone is generous to me.

Ok, no. It's not that I hate the act, it's that I hate my reaction to it: I generally cry or at least get choked up.

Today I left DC for my travels home. It wasn't saying goodbye to the office, saying goodbye to the numerous watering holes, or saying goodbye to the close friends I've made that broke me up...it was when my neighbor Ben (often referred in conversation as "neighbor Ben") came rushing out of his house when he heard the truck start up to give me a bag of cookies.

"They don't look like much, but they are tasty." I said thanks, gave him a hug, and climbed into the cab.

My father immediately asked if I was okay because I had a look like I was holding back a dam.

I've known Ben since I moved into 222 1/2 12th Street SE. He's an excellent gardener, retired telecom lawyer, fitness freak, who has owned his house for 33 or so years. He is always kind, talkative, not nosy, and has a brother in Portland so the chances are I will indeed see him again.

"They don't look like much, but they are tasty," rang in my ears once more.

"I hate generosity," I said to my father as I took a deep breath and held back the flood of tears lapping my eyelids.

--
Nils Tillstrom
m. 503.449.8523

"The test of our progress is not whether we add more to the abundance of those who have much it is whether we provide enough for those who have little"- Franklin Delano Roosevelt