In Washington DC last year, I was handed an extra bagel sandwich (the café had made my order wrong at first). I didn’t need it, so I decided to give it away.

Earlier, walking from the hotel to the café along well-kept streets, I had noticed somebody had set up a makeshift tent made of cardboard and thin fabric. Sandwich in hand, I planned to return that way and give my little gift to a person in need. Simple, right? Someone who maybe doesn’t eat a tasty meal very often would probably be interested.

I reached the tent but it seemed vacant so I walked around and asked a few passersby if they knew anyone who would like a free breakfast, to no luck. One kind man, as he patted his belly, joked that he already eats plenty, but pointed me in the direction of a bench, where the sandwich would be picked up by someone, he assured me. But when I reached that bench it was surrounded by squirrels and birds, and I thought that the smoked salmon avocado bagel might not reach a human being like I had envisioned.

–> I don’t tell this tale because I’m trying to prove I’m a good person by giving away a sandwich that cost me nothing. I just made a logical choice after getting a reminder right under my nose that people are probably hungry and the sandwich might make a tiny difference to someone.

As I kept wandering with my little paper bag in hand, offering it with a smile to anyone who might be interested, I noticed how they all looked away on approach, like they were embarrassed. I started feeling like I wasn’t really doing the right thing.

Then it dawned on me.

Me, the woman holding the free sandwich, me who had a nice hotel room to return to, me who was wearing clean clothes and carried a purse with money in it, was at that moment a walking billboard of a “have” vs. those around me who had not.

The rejection didn’t make me want to do or give less, just the opposite. But I realized that I was acting from the perspective of “the giver” and thus the other person was “the needy one” — that’s why leaving a gift on a street bench can make sense; it avoids that eye contact and perpetuating the story of “I have more than you, here is my charity”.

Everyone wants to be treated with dignity.

So if someone hands me a free sandwich again, I’ll just find the right bench to put it on.

In the end, my twenty-minute circuit led me to a bench where a young man was quietly sitting, rummaging through some plastic bags and snacks. As I approached him with the offer, he returned a thankful smile and stated that he was putting together some meals for his neighbors.

At last, my sandwich was in good hands as I saw it.

— more on giving:

Setting aside the obvious matters of privilege, inequality and injustice, on a spiritual level, of course, we are all equals. And so being able to give to someone else does not make one person special. Giving, whether it’s your time, money, energy, or attention to another person is like letting life’s gifts travel through you. Khalil Gibran wrote “… in truth it is life that gives unto life—while you, who deem yourself a giver, are but a witness“

Give like the rain gives to the trees.