It’s no secret that Aid is a business. Most days I feel inundated by do-gooders – they’re the voices at the other end of cold calls, the hopeful faces flashing across the television screen,and the bright-smiled grads in cheaply printed cotton jerseys working the heavily trafficked pedestrian corners. They’re paid to believe that every penny counts, and they double their commissions when they convince you how a little support goes a long way.
I typically avoid them, shirk them, hang up the handset and cross the street. I curse the small way they inconvenience my day, but when the world seems to crumble, I’m thankful that there are others stepping up to the challenges.
I’ve been out of work for some time now, and up until a week ago I could hear the death rattles as my bank balance struggled to stay above the red. My first paycheck will be my saving grace, but in the wake of catastrophe, the need to hoard my earnings doesn’t seem so essential.I’m blessed that I have the means and support to survive without pinching every penny, or worrying about waking up to dry taps and an empty pantry. So when that first infusion of cash hits the bank, I plan on transferring out a day’s pay – one day of work for someone else. It’s a small commitment, but if I can afford my biweekly latte, then I should certainly be able to devote a day’s pay to the service of others. It’s my first step towards making things a little bit better. What are you doing?
I'm sort of trying to remember what a pay cheque looked like... xoo
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