When I was a little kid during the Depression, a lot of hoboes would get off the train in town and head straight for the rectory to get something to eat. But my family, not the priests, lived in the rectory, so my mother, a great Austrian baker, would end up giving them coffee and her fresh sweet rolls. And they would, be more than happy to do it. Our alumnae often come back to speak with residents. These women are delirious to be off the dole and working and independent.
People equate welfare with compassion.
But compassion's got nothing to do with it. A handout is the least compassionate thing you could do. Compassion means suffering with, doing with, being with. All rights reserved.