Being ungenerous robs us

By John Mohan

In a moment of weakness my wife let me buy a little Honda convertible this spring. My friends think she is the best wife in the world to let me have it, but I suspect she was hoping it would quell the raging hormones of a man in full-blown mid-life crisis.

"If I let him have the car maybe he'll stop the whining, or at least won't be asking for a motorcycle." It goes pretty good; fit my budget and a nice car to look at. (I saw on old comic strip that suggested the difference between men and women is that men won't run a shopping cart into a $250,000 sports car. But I digress.)

On the weekend my neighbour and I were talking after cutting our lawns when he offered me a piece of his chain link fence to finish off one side of my yard. When I asked him about the price he said it was no charge because we're good neighbours. Sensing my awkwardness about his generosity he threw out a suggestion. "How about you let me take your car for a drive sometime?" (You're probably wondering about my answer.)

Like most raised in a single-parent home, my family didn't have a lot of extra money lying around. Although my dad (raising four kids on a military income) didn't say so, I'm sure food, clothing and shelter were luxury items for us some days. The interesting thing about being raised on modest means is it doesn't mean we all instantly morph to become generous people. Maybe most are, but it's not necessarily automatic -- just as being rich isn't synonymous with being greedy. Sometimes we're so afraid of losing whatever we've gained in later life that we've never abandon the psyche of not having enough.

The problem with being ungenerous is it robs us more than protects us. Most obvious is how misguided we become about defining human value based on the ability to collect and protect an asset list. A bigger house or newer car may enhance our image but doesn't increase our worth as people. Further, we can lose sight of how temporary life is when we try to hang on to the things that will eventually become someone else's or end up in a landfill. Maybe the biggest implication of generosity or stinginess is how it impacts those around us, especially younger generations. Nobody wants to leave a legacy where they are known as someone who valued things more than people and nobody expects to have others comment at their funeral, "That person really taught me the value of hoarding ..."

Sometimes instead of us teaching children about what really matters in life it is them who teach us. Last week an elementary school-aged boy and his sister brought part of their allowances to Siloam Mission as donations. It was a sacrifice and it was generous. I want to be like them. But who doesn't?

And about my neighbour driving my car? Of course -- it's just a car. But my neighbour is my neighbour.

-- John Mohan is the CEO of Siloam Mission.

Last Updated: 26th August 2009, 2:21am

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