Hi, hey, hello–I have a story for you.
A few weeks ago, while returning home after completing errands, my husband and I noticed a woman selling mangoes by the side of the highway with her little girl strapped to her back. It's not an unusual sight, but on that particular day it was bitterly cold, about 10 degrees! Seeing her and her daughter out there made my heart ache and I couldn't shake off the sadness for the rest of the day. The next day, I told my husband about her, and he understood exactly how I felt because he'd been feeling the same way.
Feeling a strong desire to offer assistance, I resolved to do something for her. Although I understood I couldn't relocate her from the highway permanently, I believed I could at least give her the day off. With this in mind, we drove over to see her, and I handed her $100, essentially buying her mangoes for the day so she and her daughter could go home.
It wasn't easy parting with that money, especially since we're trying to be more conservative with our spending this year. As I withdrew the money from our account, doubts flooded my mind. Thoughts like, "You don't have to give that much," or "You might offend her,"(which is wild, right?) nagged at me. But I pushed those fears aside, silenced my inner Bruno (if you've seen the movie Luca), and tucked the money into my pocket.
When we met her and I explained (in my best Spanish) what I was trying to do, her expression changed. I saw confusion, surprise, and joy in her eyes. And in that moment, I felt it too. Saying goodbye, I was filled with a sense of contentment and happiness. I felt grateful that I was in a position to help someone, even if it was just for a day.
This experience came to mind when I found myself (finally) reading The Giving Tree. It looked so abandoned collecting dust on my bookshelf that I felt guilty for not exploring its pages.
My good friend, Victoria, gave me this book at my baby shower in 2022. A book that might be as universally gifted at baby showers as “Oh, the Places You’ll Go” is at graduations. I opened it while we served cake, half reading and half thinking about whether there'd be cake leftover to take home to eat that night. Convinced I must’ve read it before in childhood, I skimmed through, barely absorbing three or four pages before returning it to the pile of gifts.
When I picked up the book to read a few days ago, its message hit me hard. As I read, I couldn't help but empathize with the tree and grow increasingly irritated with the boy. Their dynamic felt imbalanced, the tree endlessly giving while the boy seemed to take without reservation. Setting the book aside, I sipped my coffee and continued my day, yet the story lingered in my thoughts. Why did the tree give so willingly? And why did the boy constantly take without thought? Reflecting on these questions, I reached a realization: Giving will take everything from you.
What is it about giving that demands such depletion? How does this act simultaneously strip away from us while offering abundance in return? It's such a profound contradiction. I’m glad I got to experience this firsthand with my mango lady. I'm not sure if she actually took the day off, but I know it made a huge impact on both of us. Since then, I've spent many $100 bills, but that one will stay with me for years to come.
Giving, true giving comes from within. We give to things we care about, we give to those we love. And if giving takes everything from us, how can we give if not from the heart? I know this is nothing new, I’ve heard this my whole life. I’m sure you have too, especially if you grew up in the church like I did and heard almost every Sunday, John 3:16–for God so loved the world that he gave his only son. (This popular verse, by the way, was once printed on Forever 21 bags, among a plethora of other things).
Giving will transport you to uncharted territories, open your worldview, introduce you to new people, and illuminate your love for the world and humanity.
So I’d like to know your thoughts on the subject. 👉🏽 Do you think true generosity lies in losing ourselves completely, or is it through giving our all that we uncover our greatest riches? If you haven't had the opportunity to read it yet, you can click here to do so.
—you’ll notice I use the word ‘so’ quite often. you’ll also most likely notice bad grammar and the overuse of commas and punctuation in my writing—so yea