Alms for the poor

One of the things I learned while in Greece is that my son is not working hard enough.

While he enjoyed a leisurely holiday, and afternoons in the pool, all around us were little kids with accordions, playing up a racket with one hand, and reaching out for coins with the other. Mark was fascinated by them, and asked what they were doing.

"They're playing for money," I told him. "That's how they earn a living."

The lesson stuck with him. He thought about it quite a bit, and I was happy that it made him think. I wanted him to realize how fortunate he is -- how fortunate we all are -- to have a happy, healthy life and to make a decent enough living that he doesn't have to spend his days in the street with an accordion.

That's what I hoped he was was thinking about, anyway. Turns out I was far too optimistic, because rather than feel sorry or compassionate for the kids, he thought they were brilliant, and wondered how much they made a day.

This became apparent when we took the boat ride from hell to the islands. Mark asked if he could get ice cream, and I said no at first (it was 9:30 a.m.!). But I relented in the afternoon, and he was so excited he could barely stand still.

I handed him a 2 Euro coin, and he took off running.

"Come back!" I shouted. "You need another Euro!"

"That's okay," he answered. "I'll get one up there."

Lori and I looked at each, confused. I motioned him back, and he reluctantly came.

"Up where?" I asked.

"By the ice cream stand," he said. "I'll just ask people for money."

And I realized that of all the things we'd seen so far, all the history, museums, historical sites....this is what he learned. How to beg strangers for money.

And it wasn't the last time he tried it, either. One evening in Santorini, as I turned the corner, I was met by this little beggar, asking for coins.


I take Mark traveling because I want him to be a citizen of the world. Turns out I'm setting my sights too high.