Luck, or Reaping what is sown?

I have been assured that I am far too generous. That I am too kind, too naive, too gullible. That one day I will get myself hurt (I have been, but that won't stop me).

This may be the case. Certainly it appears to be accurate from certain points of view.

And yet, this is how I am. I have a generous spirit. I give when I can, where I can, when I perceive need. In one month I paid a scholarship to a workshop for someone who could not afford it, I paid for coffee for a woman who left her wallet at home, I asked a single-mom with a newborn what she needed most and got it for her, gave a friend with back-trouble a massage, paid for my niece's daycare so my sister could finish her nursing program, and gave freely of my time to an acquaintance who was having marital problems and needed an ear.

"That was very generous of you," commented a good friend of mine.

"Its only time and money. Its what I do with them that are important," I answered.

Besides. I do have a motive. Or maybe three. Giving, of myself or my resources, makes me aware of the abundance in my life. I am aware of my good fortune and try not to take it for granted. It makes me feel good, knowing I have been able to do something for another person. And lastly, and perhaps more importantly, I do so selfishly. I have this superstition that what I send out into the world comes back to me, perpetually. Ill thoughts, ill words, ill deeds, I feel, revisit themselves upon those who perpetuate them. I sow kindness and good intentions and in return, I know, I just know, that when I have a need I cannot meet myself, that somehow, someway, I will get what I need. Some call it luck, some call it karma. I say--good or bad--what comes your way often depends on what you send out into the world.

I cashed in on a few good-deeds this past weekend. I drove up The Mountain and when I left, I left my car and took the car that The Englishman had... it was being cranky. It was late, and it was some time before I realized that the car I'd traded mine for had a gas gauge on empty, and the nearest place for gas was 14 miles away on a winding, graded road. I had a twinge of anxiety but told myself I would make it. And I did. Only, when I arrived, the station was closed, and had been for 30 minutes. I noticed a clerk was still inside. I knocked on the door and he came to it, saying, We're closed. And I said, I noticed, and could he please tell me where the next station was, as I was on empty. And he told me 7 miles. And I asked him if he thought it would be open. He looked at his watch, looked at me, at my car. He said, No, not that late, and he must have seen the flash of panic on my face, because he offered to turn on the pumps and fill my tank. I thanked him profusely. When he finished filling the tank, I tried to give him some cash for him, for his time, for staying late, but he would not take it.

He was a good man, who did a kind and generous thing for a stranger late at night. I could have been a thief, but he took a chance, and helped me. I hope, one day, when he is in need, someone will help him, too. I know the next time I come across someone who needs my help, I will do so, and remember him.