Beggars can be chosen

Coming out of a pricey restaurant, a boy of about thirteen, black with the top of his hair bleached blond, approached us to tie a 'wish ribbon' on our wrists. The idea is that you make three wishes and don't take the ribbon off till it disintegrates and your wishes will come true.

For the first time, I accepted a ribbon and said to him in English translated by Isabel into Portuguese, "I wish for you to become rich." Then he introduced himself, Fabiano, and said it was time for my second wish and I wished for him to have love; and for my third wish I wished happiness for him, his nearby mother, and us. He choked up a little and offered me a string of plastic beads from the many on his arm as a gift because I had spent my wishes on him. I accepted them and put them around my neck. Later, when we walked away, he followed and suggested that the beads were worthy of a donation. I started to give them back, but Isabel said not to do that because he was struggling with a conflict, that of wanting to be generous and needing to be grasping, both because it is his conditioning and his way of making a living. We compromised, giving him half of what he hoped for so that he might still honor the part of himself that wanted to make a gift, and we were all oddly satisfied with the arrangement.

Even Fabiano can afford to make a gift and his gift makes him bigger if not richer.

A very black man with shriveled legs, thin and twisted and useless, walks on his hands in sandals made for feet. He's wearing blue shorts and shirt and has a little red pack on his back. He is one of a group of physically disabled people gathered in a tourist area very near a social service agency, and he is trying to make you give him money by any means he can. He is less aggressive than the others, needless to say, but you feel the manipulation powerfully. I have to admit, I did not like his company... until his dog entered the scene. A beautiful whippet-sized white mutt with a couple of tan spots and a couple of wounds came into the plaza, saw him, and scampered tail-wagging directly for him. Reaching him she jumped and circled and wagged, then lay down and pushed her head into his hand. He petted her and got a face licking. She rolled over on her back in pleasure, he rubbed her chest, forgetting about being the most guilt inducing vision on the plaza. I took a photo (which is acceptable, not the invasion it would be in many places), knowing this might be taken as the money-making photo op. He did not notice. I took another picture and saw later that a woman of the village was stooping to put money into the pack on his back while his dog frolicked in front of him. I did not give money (I would have been instantly charged by at least a dozen beggars and it can get ugly) and I did take photos. If I had it to do over again I would find a way to give some money to this beautiful beloved set of beings who in the midst of it all, forgot it all and loved each other.