The Right Thing To Do

Written by Manfred Phua.

I’ve never been the sort of guy who would willingly give money to strangers. I’ve always believed that if a poor man approaches me for money, I’d rather buy him a meal than give him some cash. Who knows if he’ll use that money on another pack of cigarettes, or get dead drunk? But given that I’d never actually bought food for a stranger before, it has always been just a theory – until last week…

I fell severely ill one morning while at work and with the permission of my supervisor, got the day off. Leaving the office, I took a cab to my family doctor and was diagnosed with stomach flu. It was a costly affair; requiring super expensive drugs for my super powerful bugs, I had barely enough cash left to buy lunch. Pushed by my basic survival instincts and my famished stomach, I chanced upon a convenience store and headed towards it to see what I could buy with a couple of dollars.

As I turned the corner, my feet accidentally kicked something and I heard the rustling of coins. Looking down, I saw an old man seated on a newspaper that was spread out underneath him. His clothes looked like they hadn’t been washed in weeks and in front of him was a small trucker cap, upturned to hold a few meager coins. He looked up, raised his wrinkled hands in supplication, and asked if I could spare him anything. I shook my head, replied that “I don’t have anything”, and entered the store.

The things we say sometimes have a way of haunting us. I don’t have anything. I could not believe my heart had grown so calloused. I was sick, I had spent a lot of money on my medicine, I was hungry, but it certainly wasn’t true that I had nothing. I have a roof over my head, a warm shower whenever I want one, and a regular job. I have so much more compared to the old man, and yet I had dared to tell him I didn’t have anything for him. The old man sat there, a stark contrast to the life I have. I am living, he is surviving.

At that moment, I realized that to ignore this old man would be to lose the little shred of humanity I had left. If I were to deafen myself to the clarion call of conscience, I would be hardening my heart towards what is right and true. I was not bound by law to help him, but by morality... the very essence of what makes us human, but yet habitually ignored by so many of us.

I exited the store with a loaf of bread in one hand and a bottle of water in the other, both of which I gave to the old man. His eyes brimmed as he thanked me profusely. He expressed that I need not have done that for him, but I walked away knowing that I did. I was still sick, and hungry, but my heart was lifted, as I knew I had done the right thing that day.