Childlike Generosity: ‘We Have Money and They Don’t’

My son’s response to a homeless man shows how we make giving too complicated

My son started carrying around exactly $11 in his wallet a couple of weeks ago. While that might seem like an oddly specific amount, my 6-year-old child’s reasoning should challenge us all. His rationale: He brings $10 for spending cash, but he also wants an extra $1 on hand “just in case” he sees a homeless person.

As a kid just learning about the real value of money, my son’s generous spirit stunned me. It also filled my heart with joy and made me incredibly proud. Apparently, he’s listening and learning as we pursue radical generosity as a family.

The decision to add the extra dollar came soon after we spent a beautiful summer Friday afternoon in downtown Chicago. As we walked toward Lake Michigan, we passed a man sleeping on the sidewalk. Although my son had been exposed to homelessness before, he noticed it for the first time that day. When he asked why the man was lying in the street, I explained that some people don’t have enough money to buy houses, beds or food.

I could see the wheels turning as he processed this new reality. His facial expression briefly revealed a mix of concern and confusion. Then, he immediately asked if we could give the man money. His logic? “We have money and they don’t.” Pretty simple.

We didn’t give that particular person anything, but my son couldn’t stop talking about it the rest of the afternoon. So, we promised him we would help the next person we see. A couple of hours later, outside of Shake Shack, I watched him quietly and confidently walk up to a homeless man and hand him $1. The man responded with heartfelt appreciation, and my son smiled from ear to ear.

My child experienced the joy of giving for the first time in his life. The next day, he pledged to carry an extra dollar with him at all times. He woke up to a need and permanently changed his behavior so he will always be prepared to meet it.

Defining ‘Greatness’ in Generosity

The experience of seeing my son come to the aid of a homeless man makes me think of Jesus’ words in Matthew 18:3-4. After his disciples ask who will be the greatest in the kingdom of heaven, Jesus calls over a child and teaches them a lesson on humility. “Unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven,” he says. “Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.”

As the disciples argued over privilege and power, Jesus countered with an example of simplicity, dependence and vulnerability. “Greatness” requires childlike faith and a worldview that doesn’t consider status, class or outward distinctions. It mandates that we notice the “least of these” among us and assume by default that everyone has equal value and rights.

In the context of generosity, greatness requires us to see a need and immediately meet the need, without regard for social standing or our own desires. If we want to live more generous lives, we should imitate children, who view the world through a filter not yet corrupted by their own ambitions and fears.

See the need, meet the need.

It’s so simple that a child can figure it out, but somehow we lose that perspective as life and finances get more complicated.

How We Make Generosity Too Complicated

Giving becomes much more difficult later in life. When you’re in first grade with $54 in your piggy bank and no financial obligations, it’s easy to conclude you should help someone because you have money and they don’t. When you have a mortgage to pay and a retirement to fund, it’s much easier to come up with excuses.

And once you layer in the learned prejudices, political beliefs and aspirations of adulthood, a “see the need, meet the need” mentality becomes almost impossible.

My son reminded me of a black-and-white fact of life: Some people have more money than they need, and some people have nothing. In the mind of a child, the answer is easy: Those with more should give to those with less. It’s not even a question.

When you strip away the manufactured demands and desires of life and look at the world through the eyes of children, it’s easy to see how we over-complicate generosity. My son challenged me anew to notice the needs around me and be ready to meet them. To accomplish that, we must structure our personal finances in an intentional way to leave room for generosity.

Maybe I’ll start carrying around a little more cash in my wallet, just in case.