Life of Hardin Vol. III, No. 14
Beware of the Bears
Paupering is a perfectly legitimate and upstanding profession in Asuncion . By paupering I mean, of course, standing at street lights all day and asking for change from the cars that pass by. Good King Solomon said that it is good for a man to find satisfaction in his toilsome labor under the sun. Now all this asking for money may take place under the sun, but it is hardly toilsome and bears no resemblance to labor.
That is not to make little of the poor. A man in a down time may ask for his daily bread and expect some help from his fellow man. But here paupering has the respectability and permanence of a career that it was never intended to have. The willingness of citizens to scrape the crumbs of change out their windows makes it lucrative.
There are some who take their business seriously and in the proper state of humility. They understand their position of dependence. They appreciate what is received as a gift. Then there are others who do not. They often wear brand new soccer jerseys and brand new shoes. They frequent car windows when it is convenient, and take coffee breaks when their pockets are full. They ask for wages, not help, and file grievances when the payday arrives late. They frown and curse with malice in their hearts. The tools of their trade are a sorrowful look and a key to remove car paint. With them it is not so much, “Ask and ye shall receive,” as it is, “Trick or Treat.”
It is just this sort of disrespectful attitude with which the prophet Elisha took exception in a group of youths. On them he called down a curse in the name of the Lord, and two bears immediately appeared and mauled forty-two of them. Not killed, just taught them a lesson by chewing them up a little and spewing them out again.
Enoch and I encountered one such career pauper one evening dressed in an official Brazilian soccer jersey. He approached the window of the car and held up his hand in the “OK” sign, which doubles as a beg for a coin. Enoch gave him a few coins, about a dime’s worth. The boy (definitely a professional), pointed across at me and said, “And he owes me a quarter.”
Enoch said, “That’s for both of us.”
“No, he needs to give me something.” He crossed his arms and planted them on the window sill.
Money or silver I had none, so I gave him what I had. “Beware of the bears,” I said.
“What?” said the boy.
“Beware of the bears,” said Enoch.
“There are no bears here.”
“Beware of the bears,” I repeated. Had he read his Bible, he would have realized just how useful was the advice. It was only a warning. I called down no curses on his head in the name of the Lord.
“There are no bears here,” he said again.
“Yes there are.”
“Why didn’t the television tell me?”
“It was in the paper,” I said. “Didn’t you hear?”
“There are no bears here.”
“Beware of the bears,” said Enoch.
“There are no bears here.” The boy backed away from the car, his fingers clutched around the coin he had so desperately earned. “There are no bears here.”
I am sure he treasured that ten cents more than any other he got that night. It may have been the hardest earned of his short career. I hope he learned a lesson. I hope he heeds the warning. I pray that he rethinks his profession and picks up something that will give him a bit more career satisfaction, an appreciation of his toilsome labor under the sun, such as graft or larceny. This bold hypocrisy in broad daylight I cannot abide.
Beware of the Bears
Paupering is a perfectly legitimate and upstanding profession in Asuncion . By paupering I mean, of course, standing at street lights all day and asking for change from the cars that pass by. Good King Solomon said that it is good for a man to find satisfaction in his toilsome labor under the sun. Now all this asking for money may take place under the sun, but it is hardly toilsome and bears no resemblance to labor.
That is not to make little of the poor. A man in a down time may ask for his daily bread and expect some help from his fellow man. But here paupering has the respectability and permanence of a career that it was never intended to have. The willingness of citizens to scrape the crumbs of change out their windows makes it lucrative.
There are some who take their business seriously and in the proper state of humility. They understand their position of dependence. They appreciate what is received as a gift. Then there are others who do not. They often wear brand new soccer jerseys and brand new shoes. They frequent car windows when it is convenient, and take coffee breaks when their pockets are full. They ask for wages, not help, and file grievances when the payday arrives late. They frown and curse with malice in their hearts. The tools of their trade are a sorrowful look and a key to remove car paint. With them it is not so much, “Ask and ye shall receive,” as it is, “Trick or Treat.”
It is just this sort of disrespectful attitude with which the prophet Elisha took exception in a group of youths. On them he called down a curse in the name of the Lord, and two bears immediately appeared and mauled forty-two of them. Not killed, just taught them a lesson by chewing them up a little and spewing them out again.
Enoch and I encountered one such career pauper one evening dressed in an official Brazilian soccer jersey. He approached the window of the car and held up his hand in the “OK” sign, which doubles as a beg for a coin. Enoch gave him a few coins, about a dime’s worth. The boy (definitely a professional), pointed across at me and said, “And he owes me a quarter.”
Enoch said, “That’s for both of us.”
“No, he needs to give me something.” He crossed his arms and planted them on the window sill.
Money or silver I had none, so I gave him what I had. “Beware of the bears,” I said.
“What?” said the boy.
“Beware of the bears,” said Enoch.
“There are no bears here.”
“Beware of the bears,” I repeated. Had he read his Bible, he would have realized just how useful was the advice. It was only a warning. I called down no curses on his head in the name of the Lord.
“There are no bears here,” he said again.
“Yes there are.”
“Why didn’t the television tell me?”
“It was in the paper,” I said. “Didn’t you hear?”
“There are no bears here.”
“Beware of the bears,” said Enoch.
“There are no bears here.” The boy backed away from the car, his fingers clutched around the coin he had so desperately earned. “There are no bears here.”
I am sure he treasured that ten cents more than any other he got that night. It may have been the hardest earned of his short career. I hope he learned a lesson. I hope he heeds the warning. I pray that he rethinks his profession and picks up something that will give him a bit more career satisfaction, an appreciation of his toilsome labor under the sun, such as graft or larceny. This bold hypocrisy in broad daylight I cannot abide.
posted by Josh Hardin | 11/11/2006 08:24:00 AM
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