Selfish Giving

Child: “Mom, my friends are going to the movies, can I have some money to go with?”

Mom: “Sure, Clean the garage and I’ll give you 20 dollars.”

Child: “That’s not fair. None of the other kids have to earn the money.”

Mom: “I guess I just love you more.”

My husband and I have been married for almost nine years. Last year, he graduated from medical school. This year, he started as a resident. During our marriage, we’ve been blessed with four amazing children. Needless to say, we’ve always been completely broke. I am so grateful that I didn’t start my family with money. I am grateful we were given our children at a time when it was a huge sacrifice to raise them.

Let me explain; when my first was born, I wanted everything for him. This was selflessness, right? I never complained about not having the money to buy things for myself. I only felt bad about our finances when I couldn’t give my son the things I wanted to. As he got older, and the others started showing up, I realized the absolute agony of the words, “I can’t buy that for you; we don’t have the money.” I hated telling my kids “no.” Of course, as time went by, I realized how quickly they got over it. It was only really hard on me.

People choose to give money away for many reasons. With my kids, it was because seeing them disappointed nearly killed me and seeing them excited made me feel so good. When I see beggars at street corners, I feel guilty and want to give to them to make myself feel better. At showers, I like to be seen giving a nice, cute or creative gift. Some people like to be seen giving so much that they publicize it in any way they can. Politicians are in this category. (although the money they give is not theirs.)

This, my friends, is why liberalism is so attractive. It’s why children who don’t really understand what’s at stake, love to argue for more giving. It feels good. It makes you appear selfless and moral. It makes you feel like you are a believer in the most beloved of all human tendencies: the desire to help others.

Lately, I’ve noticed something. Every time I tell my child, “no, we can’t afford it,” or “no, you don’t need it,” or (most especially) “I’ll give you the chance to earn it,” the guilt is a little less. It was because of my love, because of my desire for good, that I wanted to say, “yes.” But it is because I want the very best for my children that I have learned to say, “no.”

This last week my six-year-old and I were leaving a grocery store where there was a lottery-like promotion going on. We have spent a lot of time talking about work, he and I. (these discussions were a natural progression from my explaining to him why he had to earn the money he wanted to buy books from the catalogues they send home from school every month) We discussed what would happen to the world if people stopped working. We talked about how the work one person does, not only earns him money, but also makes it possible for others to earn money and have the things they need. We looked backward at the path of a loaf of bread from our home to the store, to the factory, to the farm. We discussed what would happen if the farmer, grocer, or truck driver was given money for free and how it would make it so the bread didn’t come to our dinner table. So, that day at the store, when he asked me if we had won the grocery store promotion, and I told him “no,” he said, “That’s good. We should work for what we get.” Suddenly, all the agony that had come with telling him “no” time after time was worth it.

Giving can be a purely selfish act. Choosing not to give can be a selfless act of love.

On that note, you should check out this article....Hilarious (in a sick, sad, sort of way).