On Sharing

Mind of a Mouse

My mother says when I was a child, I was generous with my toys.  I always shared with my siblings.  I like sharing, its easy for me.  I don’t think about it, I just do it. I want everyone I care about to have what I have.

My generosity doesn’t extend to strangers. I very rarely give to charities. Strangers aren’t really real people to me.  They are just anonymous numbers.

But when a stranger crosses the line, makes eye contact, speaks, gives me their name, they become real and meaningful.


I was at the gas station, filling the car’s gas tank, when the man approached me.  His ragged clothing, dirty hair and face told me he was homeless.  There are a number of them in our part of the city, more now since the surge of gentrification hit its peak about a year ago.  I did not turn to…

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