Generosity

Around 8 PM last thursday, I boarded a rather empty train to finally go back home. As I sat there, I instantly started reviewing the happenings of the day - It started with an statistics final, which I'd been dreading ever since I learned I'd have to study statistics. After that traumatic experience, things ran much more smoothly; I spent a great deal of time at the library, had lunch and ran to my French class. By the time I was ready to go, I realized it was already 4:30. Anyone who lives in São Paulo knows what this means: Super packed public transportation. Knowing I'd have to spend at least 1 hour and a half commuting under such unpleasant conditions, I quickly concluded I'd be better off staying a few more hours at college.

*

So, there I was: sitting in the midst of people who looked incredibly tired. They were probably dreaming of tasty meals and hot showers, just as I was. Four more stations, and then I'd finally be home. As I reached for my music device, I heard a squeaky voice that I found hard to ignore. I looked up, and I saw one of those people who sell candy on the train. There was nothing specially different about him - aside from his voice - but the candy caught my eye. Not because I love sweets anyway, but because they were so carefully and thoughtfully wrapped. I though of the time he must have spent in doing that at his home and then I though of the many train wagons he most have hopped in and out to sell them. I wondered how tired he'd feel at the end of the day and how lucrative his business was. Neither of my thoughts led to happy conclusions.

*

I decided to buy the candy. I opened my wallet, but with grand surprise I realized there was no money at all. With a disappointed smile, I apologized and told the expectant candy seller that I wouldn't buy anything because I was out of coins. He gave me a two-second perplexed look and then moved away without saying a word.

*

As I wondered if he had gotten mad because I somehow made him believe I was going to buy his product and then didn't, he approached me again:

*

"Hey there, do you want this?"

*

Now I was the one giving him a perplexed look. Was he offering me candy despite the fact that I was broke for the day?

*

"If you want to have this, go on and take it."

*

I was still trying to figure out why he was doing that, but managed to refuse politely and thank him. The train doors opened and he got off.

*

When this man first boarded the train, he announced he was in a bad financial situation and that any kind of help would be more than welcomed. Why on Earth would he want to give me free candy? I tried to rationalize what had just happened, but I didn't succeed.

*

I guess he was simply being generous to a stranger. Despite the difficulties, despite his life. I'll never know what led him to do that, but the one thing I know is that he taught me a lesson. His generosity made me feel really ashamed, for I don't know if I would be concerned about being generous were I in his shoes. I don't even know if I'm as generous as I could and should be today. Probably not, but I'm comitted to be more like the man who sells neatly-wrapped candy on the train.