I’ve been thinking.

I’ve always been a volunteer and a donor. I’ve made time in my life to work for some causes that have meant a lot to me. Causes like helping to get healthy food to homes where there wasn’t enough to go around, like helping to get warm and pretty hats to women who’ve lost their hair from chemo, like pitching in with community groups to help families make their rent, pay their electric bills, change their situations to safer ones. I’ve supported the homeless shelter with my family and helped raise money to provide seeds and gardening training to people who could only afford fresh vegetables if they grew them.

It’s not that I have so much. It’s just that some have so little.

I’m a lot like you. We just want to do something to help.

But I have a bone to pick. And this has been bothering me since I don’t remember when.

So I’ve been thinking about this. How many times have you heard people and organizations talk about helping the poor? About reaching out to underserved populations? About helping the needy?

Now, imagine that you were the one who needed a hand. You see the ads, read the articles, see the pamphlets, receive the donations of time and money – often given in your presence. Needy. That’s what they call you. In front of you. About you.

Needy.

As if it’s not hard enough to be in need.

I think there must be a more gracious way. It would be so much more generous to be a little less demeaning.

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